A Charmed Life
by Laura16
Summary: A Charmed Life picks up where 'And Baby Makes Three' leaves off. Lee and Beaman form an uneasy alliance to find Francine's kidnapper and the head of a hijacking ring stealing government weapons. Final in the Francine and Beaman series. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Scarecrow and Mrs. King are owned by Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon. All SMK characters remain their property. The story premise and characters created for this story are the property of the author. The author has not profited from this story.

These stories started over five (5!!) years ago from a challenge on the old PAX boards by smkukfan—thanks Di! Little did you realize what you would start! Thanks as well to Kelley, Diane and Jo for their always amused patience. To my beta Lori go my heartfelt thanks. Here's to the re-writes! A special note of thanks to ele and Sarai for their keen eyes and suggestions! This story closes the book on Francine and Beaman, or F&B as I fondly call them.

I have often been asked why I had made Efraim the middle name of the character…the very simple answer is I wanted the character to have the initials of the actor who brought him to life-JB-Joseph Brutsman. Just my way of saying thank you for such an inspirational character! Those of you who have met Joseph know what a great guy he is; any little kudos from me certainly fall short of those he deserves.

This story came about when it was mentioned that the mystery from my last story, "And Baby Makes Three" hadn't been solved. Here's the continuation of that story. Lee's been rather a pain about finding those missing Uzi's. Such a dedicated fellow! I would recommend reading And Baby Makes Three for much of the 'why' begins there and is concluded here.

**A CHARMED LIFE**

(I bear a charmed life…Macbeth)

**Prologue **

The two men moved through the darkened halls of the DuPont Circle office building with ease. Both wore tactical jumpsuits, their chests covered by armored vests, their faces hidden behind balaclava masks and tactical goggles. Their guns were in their gloved hands, raised and at the ready. Communication between the two was unnecessary; they knew where they were going and who they were looking for. They had planned every movement of this operation and had committed the office terrain to memory so that their actions were second nature; their movements were quick but cautious, born of years of experience.

Coming to their destination, they stopped at the doors that led to an office. With a nod, one opened the door and moved in, the other following in a covering action. The man seated at the desk jumped to his feet. Before he could utter a warning, one of the men shot him; there was no retort from the weapon as it fired. The man looked down at his shoulder where he found a dart imbedded. Shock registered across his features as he looked at the two men; his mouth open to say something. He blinked, staggered and fell into his chair unconscious; the warning he would have issued silenced by the men's quick action. The man who fired the shot quickly cuffed the fallen man, pulling the barb from the shoulder and placing it in a pouch at his waist.

They proceeded to the double set of wooden doors. Without hesitation they threw them open, weapons at the ready as they entered the room.

Their quarry stood at a bank of floor to ceiling windows behind the desk. The fluorescent lights allowed their reflections to show in the glass though their target was seemingly oblivious to their presence.

The lead man carefully approached the desk and out of his peripheral vision he saw his partner mirror his position on the other side of the mahogany expanse. He nodded to the other agent; this was his game to finish.

"Federal agents! You are under arrest for violating United States Federal laws concerning weapons dealing, theft of United States Government property, interstate transportation of said property, murder, conspiracy to commit murder and for the kidnapping of Francine Desmond Beaman."

The target didn't respond to the charges leveled by the men. Moments stretched that seemed interminable when suddenly the suspect raised and fired the modified Uzi; the bullets striking the plate glass windows as the target turned. The men barely reacted to the ensuing crack of shattering glass and the reverberation of gunfire breaking the stillness of the night.

"Put your weapon down," the first agent shouted as he cast a quick glance to check on his partner as shards of glass rained down on them. "There's no place for you to go, no place to hide. We have all the evidence we need."

The target cast one final look at the agents before suddenly turning back to the gaping hole in the windows. Glass crunching beneath their boots with each step, both men cautiously edged around the desk in an effort to bring their quarry back into the safety of the office and away from the yawning abyss. "I tried to have the two of you fired, drummed out of the service, disgraced, but Smyth protected you both. All this time I was trying to remove you and you were tracking me. I never knew, I never knew." Laughter colored with the darkness of insanity chilled the two agents, the sound eerie as it echoed in the room before spilling into the emptiness outside the window. "You are nothing but pawns on a chess board to me and yet you have not done what I expected. What benefit is it to have all this power, to be able to know the intimate details of the lives of mere citizens on a whim if I so choose and not be able to know that two operatives in my government are building a case against me?"

The gun dropped to the floor, shoulders slumped in defeat. Both agents leapt to grab the target as arms raised to embrace the darkness beyond the window.

Lee Stetson felt the fabric of Beaman's tactical uniform rip at his fingernails as Efraim's weight and momentum pulled him through the gaping windows and toward the concrete below.

"Son of a bitch, son of a _bitch_!"

**10 WEEKS EARLIER**

Lee Stetson swore as he crumpled the note left on his desk by his wife. Tossing it toward the trash and missing, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

He was tired. His eyes burned from the glare of the computer screen.

Pushing the papers from one haphazard pile to another, he threw down his pen, logged off of his computer and stood up. His back was killing him after a day stuck at his desk. He had been too impatient to wait until Monday when Amanda could have helped him. Guilt goaded his frustration.

It was a frustration born of a weighty conscience and the orders to fix the situation given to him in the most explicit of terms by the director of the Agency himself; Dr. Smyth.

Orders from the taciturn director he could deal with. It was the guilt that he had trouble living with.

Remorse from an operation of his that had gone wrong. The consequences of which were Francine Beaman being kidnapped and while held captive, going into labor while the Agency worked frantically to rescue her. They had found her just in time. Beaman had carried his wife out of the recesses of Rock Creek Park and into Dr. Smyth's waiting limo where Beaman had delivered their son en route to the hospital.

He rubbed his jaw; it was the least painful of the reminders from that day. It still bothered him at times when he was stressed and clenched it, which lately was most of the time. Beaman had clocked him when he had first found out his wife had been abducted leaving her doctor appointment.

All was fine with the new Beaman family. In fact, Efraim had recently returned to work after several weeks of working from home while helping Francine with their new addition. Whereas the two men were talking, Lee knew there was a lot of road ahead of them before their friendship recovered. Lee actually smiled when he thought about Francine whose only comment about the incident had been a nasty smile full of promise for his part in her kidnapping. Oh, he was ninety nine percent sure that he and Francine were square with each other, but one percent hanging out there was enough to give him pause at times especially since he knew that Francine was capable of retribution worthy of ancient Chinese masters.

Lee's instructions were to find the link to the men who had taken Francine and their connection to Lee's investigation into stolen weapons and ammunitions. The men they had captured in the rescue at Rock Creek weren't talking. Well, they were talking, Lee thought as he slammed the Q-Bureau door behind him, just not on the subject Lee wanted to hear about. He wanted names, but the two Moldavians would panic and clam up each time Lee demanded the identity of their contact. He was beginning to think they didn't know.

The elevator doors closed and he was whooshed down several levels until he reached the counter-intelligence floor. Lee headed straight for Billy's office. Just as he entered the bullpen, the alarm to Beaman's office went off. Billy's door flew open, and the head of Counter-Intelligence glared at him from the opening.

"Stetson, haven't you learned your lesson yet?" Billy's bellow was three quarters annoyance, while the remainder was due to the fact that he couldn't be heard over the clang of the siren.

"Jeez Billy, I just walked through the door; I haven't been near Beaman's office!"

Billy's irritated gaze swung to the two MP's at the doors. They quickly nodded in agreement with Lee's statement.

"See? I told you. What did Smyth do; have that thing set to my bio-rhythms?" Lee had to shout so he could be heard over the noise. One of the MP's jumped as Billy glared at them, and ran to the panel outside Beaman's door. Re-setting the alarm, the bullpen became blissfully silent.

"That damn thing is going to give me tinnitus, I swear it is," Billy muttered as headed back into his office.

Lee followed, closing the door behind him. He slumped in the chair across from his boss and rubbed his eyes.

"Have you gotten anything from Tweedle and Dumb?" Tweedle and Dumb were the names they had slapped on the two men from Moldova.

"Nothing, well, plenty, but not what we're looking for. They're scared, and whoever put that fear in them has a long reach. The Moldavians aren't talking. Honestly? I don't think they have a name to give me."

"I was afraid of that. Smyth isn't going to like that."

_Who did? _Lee closed his eyes and shook his head. "Do we have to talk about the old man right now? Can't we just leave his name out of it?"

"What's the matter, Scarecrow? Afraid you'll conjure me up if you say my name?" Smyth closed the door to Billy's office and leaned on it, his people eating grin on his face.

The look from Billy said it all: _See what you did? _Billy rolled his eyes and Stetson sighed.

"I take it there is no news to report. Why else would the Scarecrow be hiding in an office?"

Lee stood up. He never liked dealing with Smyth from a seated position and tonight he needed all the mental shoring up he could muster, even if it was just physical height. "The two men aren't talking. At least they aren't giving up any names; I don't think they have names to give. Nothing I've done has turned up anything."

"Losing your touch?" It wasn't the first time Smyth had asked him that question. He watched Stetson closely.

"No. I haven't lost my touch, Dr. Smyth. I've come up against a brick wall. I'll find away around it or through it. I'll find the head of this ring one way or the other."

"It's good to know you still have some fire in your belly. And hopefully that's just not your lunch speaking. I want this wrapped up, and I want it wrapped up soon. I don't like it when my agents are compromised. I want the head of this player on a platter and on my desk. If you can't give me theirs, I'll take yours in its place. Are we clear?"

"Crystal clear as usual, Dr. Smyth." Lee glared at the director, annoyed with his glib command.

"Excellent. Good to see you, William. You may wish to have the sensitivity of that alarm dialed back; it's bothersome to hear it all the way up in my office. It put me off a delightfully interesting train of thought." Smyth gave the two men a slight raise of his eyebrow as he left the room. Smyth still swaggered like he owned the world, and Lee wasn't sure that he didn't. He shook his head as he watched the old spy leave the bullpen.

"Isn't he due to retire, say tomorrow?"

"Stop looking so hopeful. He's consolidated his power base since he came back from Turkey. He's secure in his position as long as he wants it. And we both know that Smyth has his eye on grander things and this is his launching pad."

Lee sat back down in the chair and thought for a moment about what Billy had said. "What _did_ happen in Turkey? The report was sealed." Lee watched Billy closely; he was hoping he'd get the scoop on the operation from his boss. As it was, no one else was talking.

"Nailed down tight, Scarecrow. Even I'm not sure what happened. But I'm willing to bet Carlson didn't get shot while out for a late night walk in the old markets of Istanbul." Billy pulled another file from the stack on his desk and opened it. He had plenty to do before he went home that night. Looking up, he eyed Scarecrow over his glasses. "Something you wanted to say, Stetson?"

"No." Lee stood up and headed out the door.

"Scarecrow?"

Squaring his shoulders, Lee stopped and turned back to face his boss as he held the door; his knuckles white with frustration.

"Do whatever it is you need to do to finish this up. I want this department back to some semblance of routine."

Lee gave his boss a curt nod. Leaving the bullpen, he headed for the Georgetown elevator. It wasn't like he was sitting on this case. But every lead he followed, every bit of information he unearthed turned out to be a dead end.

He wasn't going to find what he was looking for here. He'd take himself home and run it all by Amanda. Hopefully she'd have answers for him. Just like she always did.

*****SMK***SMK***SMK***SMK*****

"What did you think you were going to find with this?" Amanda pointed to the pile of post-its and scraps of notes written on paper coffee cups and crumpled napkins on her desk, picking up a particularly offensive looking specimen and waving it in her husband's face.

Lee had the grace to look sheepish under the derisive eye of his wife. He shrugged and parked himself on the corner of her desk, flashing his best smile at her. "I was hoping to find anything," he told her, dismissing the pile with a shrug.

"No, you hoped _I_ would find something in this mess," Amanda rolled her eyes at Lee, pursing her lips to keep from grinning back at his high wattage smile. She sighed and began to sort the bits and pieces into some semblance of order. Raising an eyebrow, she held up several pieces of a napkin that had been ripped into shreds. "Is there anything in this worth the time it will take me to put it into order?"

"Well, there could be," he hurried on as she shot him a less than pleased look. "There are phone numbers, some bank accounts, names, that sort of thing in there. It could lead somewhere."

"Or nowhere," she announced with a knowing look.

"Or nowhere," Lee reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Look, Amanda, this is getting old fast. I feel like I'm missing something. And I don't like that feeling." Frowning, he stared at the papers on the desk, looking for something to jump out at him.

Amanda cocked her head, letting Lee's words settle in her mind. "Well, this agent I worked with when I was first recruited told me if nothing makes sense, to start at the beginning." She smiled at Lee, waiting for his reaction to her reciting the lesson he had once taught her.

"Sounds like a smart guy."

"He is, usually. Sometimes he gets too close to the problem, but that's why he has me to pull him back."

"Like I said, a smart guy," Lee smiled at Amanda, her gentle scolding reminding to him yet again why she was such a good agent. And why he had fallen in love with her. "Where's the beginning in this story, Amanda?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Tell me again how Efraim got involved in this?" she pieced the napkin together, like a little cocktail jigsaw puzzle.

Lee pulled his own chair over to the desk, leaning back and resting his head on his hands folded behind him. "It was those damn Uzi's I was tracking down. I wanted Beaman's help."

"And then you broke into his computer with that black box."

Heat flared up his throat as Lee turned several shades of red, his jaw ticking overtime as Amanda's words took him back to the night he broke into Beaman's computer with a hacker's box he had bought from a Georgetown student. "Yeah, then there's that."

"I think we have to talk to Efraim. You were out of the loop after that. Efraim worked the problem from there on out. We need to know what he was doing." She pushed her chair away from the desk and stood, waiting for Lee to follow.

"Whoa! Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed her hand, not following her train of thought.

Pulled up short, Amanda was surprised at Lee's question. "We need to talk to Efraim, of course."

"Of course; why the hell do we have to talk to Beaman? In case you don't remember, I'm not exactly high on his list of favorite people."

"You're exaggerating."

"No, I'm not. I certainly don't want to dredge this all up again. I don't know if you've noticed, but Beaman gets the same look in his eye that Francine does when she's angry. I don't need to worry about looking over my shoulder for the two of them."

"Stop, you're being silly."

"Yeah, right," Lee firmly believed what he said. Shaking his head, he dropped Amanda's hand and followed her out of the Q-Bureau. The sooner they found the source, the sooner this could all be laid to rest.

Lee sighed. Amanda was right. He was a professional. Beaman was a professional. They could handle this without breaking a sweat.


	2. Chapter 2

SMKSMKSMKSMK

Billy and Amanda were both startled by the shouting coming from the bullpen. Billy slammed his coffee cup on his desk with such force the liquid sloshed over the rim, spattering the file he had been reading.

Amanda jumped up and raced out of the office and into the bullpen. She came to a dead stop with Billy plowing into her before he pushed past her and marched over to Beaman's office, the source of the commotion. Amanda hurried after him, wincing as she heard a crash.

Beaman's door bounced several times against the wall when Billy threw it open. "What the hell is going on in here?" he bellowed, his head swinging from one agent to the next. Holding up his hand to stem their complaints, Billy continued. "I don't want to hear it. I want whatever the two of you are arguing about to end now! It's over. I don't want to hear another word from either of you about whatever this is."

"I don't have time for his…." Beaman started.

Lee tried to add his own indignant complaint. "Don't give me that, Beaman, you just…."

"Beaman, you will work with Scarecrow to find the source of your computer hits and the ring leader. Scarecrow, you'll do your own legwork. Amanda, you're in charge of this investigation. Any problem with either of them, you report them to me and I'll suspend both of them. I mean it, Scarecrow, Boy Scout. If either one of you steps out of line; the two of you will be out of here! So get over it and work together on this. Now!"

All three agents watched as Billy stormed across the bullpen to his own office, the door slamming so hard it knocked one of the shades out of it's holder on his window. His hot glare at them as he picked up the shade and laid it across his desk did nothing to reassure them that he would calm down any time soon.

"Well!" Amanda started cheerfully, refusing to be put off by the disgusted looks of the two men before her. "Where do we start?"

"Nedlinger's?" Lee offered, hoping to lighten the atmosphere and hoping that Amanda would go for the idea.

"Nice try, Stetson, but no go. Really, the two of you are acting like children. I'm surprised at you both. Lee, I know you can be…."

"Hey! I resent…."

"…difficult, but you Efraim, I'm shocked at how you've acted!" Amanda scolded both men, regardless of their interruptions and claims of innocence.

Lee sat on the corner of the desk with a thud, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at Amanda. Efraim leaned back in his chair and studied the irate woman standing in front of him, hands on hips and brown eyes flashing a deep, smoldering fire.

"What do you want me to do, Amanda?" Efraim finally said, sitting upright in his chair, and giving Amanda all of his attention.

"Wimp," Lee tossed over his shoulder.

"That's enough, Lee. If you think I won't have you suspended…."

"That would be both of us, Amanda. If one goes, the other goes. And I'm in a spiteful mood right now." Lee wasn't in any frame of mind to get along with Efraim. And if that meant the two of them being suspended, so be it.

"Fine! If you do anything to have Billy suspend the two of you, I promise you that you will not have a happy home life until this is finished. And even then, I'm not guaranteeing how warm the home fires will be for you in the foreseeable future. Am I making myself clear?"

"Jeez, Amanda, you don't have to play hardball."

"I learned it from you, Scarecrow. Now, let's get to work."

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Eight days later they were no closer to a solution than they had been when Billy had placed Amanda in charge of the investigation. The atmosphere was thick between the two men, but tempers remained within tolerable boundaries.

Billy stayed away from his two agents, his door closed, his blinds repaired and the word out that he was unavailable to Scarecrow and Boy Scout. Even Dr. Smyth had the good sense to remain silent about the forced partnership, preferring to saunter in, give them an eerie smile and leave without saying a word.

Amanda made up for the lack of communication between the two men with a steady stream of chipper commentary. She showed no offense at the grunted answers she received from both Lee and Efraim, occasionally giving them a grunt in return.

The afternoon of the ninth day, Amanda announced that she had to see Billy and left Lee and Efraim working on a computer listing of possible connections between Lee's Uzi's and the men who had kidnapped Francine. As she left the Q Bureau, neither man paid any attention to her, but as soon as the door closed behind her, Lee tossed the printout on his desk and went to stand at the windows.

"Tired of reading computer printouts?" Efraim asked the obvious, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

He nodded, hands deep in his pockets. "I was thinking of something you said the other day about the computer trace always skipping the DC area. Didn't you once tell me that most people will route though the DC area because of all the computer activity in this area?"

"Yeah, they try to hide in the virtual spaghetti that is DC."

"Don't you think it's strange that this one isn't using the DC area as a stop on the run to anyone tracing him?" Lee turned to look at Efraim who had kicked back in his chair and put both feet on the desk, hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling thinking through what Lee had just asked him.

"Yeah, it is kinda strange. Not unheard of, but it's somewhat out of the ordinary."

"What do you think it could mean? I mean, if you were the one trying to hide?"

"I'd use the DC net to tangle up anyone trying to find me."

Lee nodded. "Yeah, but if you didn't use it, why wouldn't you?"

"There are some reasons why I wouldn't," Efraim shrugged. "First off, if I was a younger hacker, I'd probably want to try to show off, do something different to show my skill. Laying all possibilities on the table, if I was clumsy I'd not want to hide it in my backyard."

Lee sat down; his eyes narrowed as he thought about what Beaman had told him. "What do you mean about being clumsy?"

"If I was paranoid and trying to hide something from the US intelligence agencies, I might skip DC because I wouldn't want to get too close to us."

"You said 'backyard'."

"Yeah, _our_ backyard."

Lee stood up and pulled on his jacket. "What about this being his backyard too?" He leaned on Beaman's desk, looking the younger agent in the eye.

"Exactly; trying to keep the evidence as far away as possible is what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, something like that." Lee walked to the door. "Are you coming?"

Efraim jumped from the chair, hurrying to follow Lee out the door, pulling his suit jacket on as his did. "Where are we going?"

"Out to play in the backyard."

Efraim grinned. "Lead the way."

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Efraim held tightly to the arm rest in the Corvette. He was pretty sure Lee was hot-dogging through rush hour traffic in Virginia to annoy him, but he'd be damned before he'd say anything. He saw Lee glance over at him several times before shrugging and letting the speedometer drop below the century mark.

"So, who's backyard are we going to, Stetson? Those Uzi's were modified in Eastern Europe."

"Yeah, but they were being shipped by a local military contractor before they went MIA. They went out from Washington Industries, Limited. In fact, they've had some trouble the past year; three different shipments went missing." Lee frowned as he let that information drop between the two men.

"Were they checked out?"

Lee nodded. "Yeah, it all checked out up and above board. All the shipments were hijacked in transit; never the same way twice with the exception that all the lifts went off like clockwork. The DOD couldn't find any fault with their security system for handling weapons."

"That doesn't sit right with me. Their security checks out, and they've lost multiple shipments of Uzi's?"

"Not just Uzi's, but some rocket launchers, things like that. And the latest is that ammo I was telling you about."

An involuntarily shiver crawled up Efraim's spine. The spent uranium ammunition was some of the most controversial around but no one denied its effectiveness. It was their residual deadliness that bothered people. "Convenient. First the Uzi's, then the ammo; seems like a pattern to me."

Lee pulled into the parking lot of Washington Industries Limited. Showing his cover identification while Efraim flashed his, the guard wrote down his license plate number and waved them through. "Yeah, I thought so too."

"And they've been checked out? Who gave the clearance to use them?" Efraim climbed out of the 'Vette and looked around the Washington Industries complex. For a weekday afternoon, the parking lot was nearly empty with a strange quietness hovering over the complex. "This place feels strange."

Lee rolled his eyes and shot Efraim an amused look. "You sound like Amanda. How can a place feel 'strange'?"

"It's 2 pm on a Tuesday and this place is nearly empty. That qualifies as 'strange' in my book," Efraim turned and headed toward the main entrance leaving Lee to hurry and catch up to him.

"At least we're not going to stand around and discuss our feelings." Lee muttered when he caught up with Efraim. Efraim pushed through the large, glass doors that opened into the lobby of the building. Both men stopped and took in the public face of Washington Industrial; the lobby was open to the ceiling, steps leading to the upper offices were trimmed with stainless steel railings. The walls above were glass allowing employees to see down to the lobby below and afforded anyone in the lobby to catch a glimpse of those going about their duties. It was impressive. And empty.

The agents gave one another a nod as the guard at the communications center called out to them. Approaching the large desk area, Lee and Efraim pulled out their badges and identified themselves.

"I'm Lee Stedman, this is John Bremen. We're with the GAO and we're investigating the Pentagon's missing weapons. Is it possible to speak with your shipping department?"

The guard just stared at them and then pushed a button on a large console before speaking. Both Lee and Efraim noticed the small microphone on the guard's collar.

"The director would like to see you. His assistant will be down to escort you to his office in a minute. I will need for both of you to give me your handprints." As Lee raised his eyebrows, the guard hurried on. "It's one of our security measures; no one else gets this information. I mean, it stays here; it's for our records only."

Efraim put his hand inside of his suit jacket to return his badge as he stepped up to the scanner. Placing his hand on the glass, he waited for the scan to start before he pressed his wrist down on the laser pointer he had palmed up his sleeve. The resulting flash caused the scanner to reset.

The guard frowned, checked the settings before he restarted the scan. "Let's try this again. Sometimes it can be touchy." After the third try, he noticed the executive assistant to the director was waiting and not patiently by the deep sighs and shifting of his feet. "Look, just sign in. I don't know what's wrong with it. I'll check it out though," he announced more for the assistant's benefit than Lee and Efraim's.

After Lee finished signing his name, he dropped the pen, rolling it between the sides of his fingers to smudge their fingerprints. With a ghost of a smile at Efraim, he walked over to the harried man waiting for them.

"I'm Harlan Richards, executive assistant to the president. I'm sorry about the security delay," he tossed over his shoulder as he led them to an elevator which quickly took them to the upper reaches of the building.

Lee nodded at the introduction. "Not a problem. Those scanners can be touchy at times," he added with an amused look in Beaman's direction.

"You're both with the General Accounting Office? What can we help you with?" Richards pointed down the hallway which led to a glass enclosed office. Opening the door, he allowed Lee and Efraim to precede him into his office.

Both Lee and Efraim went into standard Agency protocol; Lee worked the subject while Efraim watched the perimeter of the office. "We've been assigned to study the feasibility of continuing the investigation into the loss of the Uzi's and uranium rounds that were shipped from your warehouses. Several of that type of configuration has shown up in Los Angeles."

"Great! You've found them then. And you're sure those weapons are from our shipment?" Richards had taken a seat, giving the appearance of a man keenly interested in the information Lee was giving him. From Efraim's viewpoint, he could see that the young man was nervous by the darting of his eyes and the shallowness of his breathing.

Lee picked up those signals as well, and leaned in for effect. "Of course we can't be sure they were from your lost shipments," Lee stressed the final 'S' in shipments. "The serial numbers were removed, and the modifications made the ballistics checks ineffectual. But isn't it coincidental that your shipments are hijacked, and crimes are being committed at the point of guns and ammunition that your company lost?"

"I resent your implication that we _lost_ those weapons, Mr. Steadman. And I might point out that our weapons were stolen in Europe. That is hardly the streets of Los Angeles."

"Smuggling is usually an inside job, regardless of which side of the ocean it happens, Mr. Richards," Efraim added. "Steal the weapons in Europe, modify them and bring them back into the US. It's not a pretty bed time story, but that doesn't make it any less plausible."

"Then it's a double failure on the part of the US Government, losing them in the first place and not preventing them from being smuggled back into the country." Richards grudgingly shrugged. "What information would you gentlemen like?"

Lee was about to outline what he wanted when the large oak doors to the executive office opened.

"Harlan, why don't you get us some coffee while I run over the details with these gentlemen?" The older man offered his hand to Lee. "James Cafferty, I'm the president of Washington Industries. I'll be happy to give the GAO any help I can in the recovery of those missing weapons. Terrible tragedy, I just hope we can track them down before anything untoward happens."

Lee took the man's hand, assessing him as he did so. Nearly as tall as Lee, with silver hair and dark eyes deep set into a tanned and weatherworn face; James Cafferty seemed concerned and eager to help. Lee stepped back as Efraim introduced himself.

"I'll have that coffee sent right up for you, sir," Richards grudgingly stated as his boss led Lee and Efraim into his office.

"Thank you, Harlan. That'll be fine." He closed the door between the offices and pointed at the two, large chairs across from his desk. Lee sat while Efraim studied the displays on the walls. "I just happen to have the files on the missing shipments here; I've been giving them much of my time trying to find something, anything that would explain what had gone wrong with our security." He handed the files to Lee and sighed, turning to the windows. His shoulders sagged, seemingly under the weight of his thoughts.

Lee flipped through the files, noting shipment codes that jibed with those the Agency had assigned to the equipment lots. Efraim came over and read over Lee's shoulder, pointing out a few items worthy of notice.

As Cafferty came to sit at his desk, Lee handed the files back to him and leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. "Any idea what may have gone wrong? What I've read from the security investigations, it was a clean get away. No evidence left behind, nothing."

"No evidence but the lifeless bodies of my employees, Mr. Stedman."

Lee nodded at the coldness in Cafferty's voice. "My apologies, Mr. Cafferty; I realize it must have been hard for you to have lost employees in conjunction with the weapons. Is there anything that stands out in these reports? Is there anything that may have been overlooked in earlier reviews?"

Cafferty leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. "Nothing, I've been over them a thousand times, and there's nothing I can find in them. Are there any new leads on this that brings you gentlemen to my office today?" He watched Lee and Efraim closely.

Efraim shrugged. "No, nothing new; this type of equipment was used in Los Angeles in the commission of several daring crimes. People up on the hill are screaming because of the uranium rounds that were used."

"Do we know if they were from my lost shipments?" Cafferty watched both men carefully, his eyes darting from Lee to Beaman and back again.

"Unfortunately, no, just the timing coincides. Your shipments go missing; this weapon platform shows up in the commission of a crime," Efraim casually picked up the files and looked through them, noting the names on security papers and approvals. "Nothing new in here--I think this has been a waste of our time, let alone yours, Mr. Cafferty."

Lee noted the momentary flash of relief in Cafferty's eyes and wondered at it. He nodded in agreement with Efraim. "Yeah, I'm sorry we've bothered you today. All of this," Lee indicated the files, "must be unpleasant for you to rehash with the loss of your employees. Accept our apologies." Lee thrust his hand out and flashed a smile as Cafferty shook it.

"Thank you, I appreciate your understanding. If…if you _should_ come across something that will help find the men who killed my employees, please let me know. I've been having trouble sleeping nights since this all happened."

"We understand that feeling," Efraim truthfully announced as he shook Cafferty's hand and followed Lee to the door. "We'll just see ourselves out. I'll see to it that you hear directly from us when we find anything."

"Thank you. You know, I have a question if you don't mind?"

Lee and Efraim stopped and waited; a look of patient interest on their faces.

"Why is the GAO investigating this? Why isn't the FBI heading up this investigation?" He watched both of the men in front of him closely.

Beaman looked at Lee. Lee took a step towards Cafferty. "Can't speak for the FBI, but we're here due to Congressional oversight. We're just the accountants who've been assigned to see if it's worth the time, manpower and more importantly, the money to continue this investigation at the current levels as well as give the DOD anymore money to throw away on this weapons platform. I'm sorry, but the bureaucracy continues heedless of the loss of life. We'll be in touch if anything should arise before the investigation is shut down."

At Cafferty's polite nod, both men left the office, tossing each other a covert look as Richards jumped back from the door as they exited.

They were silent as they rode the elevator down to reception; Beaman gave a salute to the guard who was taking the hand scanner apart as they walked out.

Both waited until Lee had pulled out of the industrial park before speaking. "How'd you know the laser pen would reset the scanner?"

"I know these things, Stetson. It's what I do for a living."

Lee sighed. He deserved the attitude he was receiving from Beaman, but he was tired of the guilt and the weight of knowing that the state of his relationship with Beaman and Francine were the direct result of his actions. "You know Beaman, if I could go back to that night; I would and not do what I did. No, let me finish," he cut Beaman off as he was about to interrupt. "I would change it all. But I can't. And I can't say it in any different manner than I already have just how sorry I am. We all make mistakes and mine was huge and it nearly cost the lives of people I care about very much, not to mention that young man and his family. I know what I did and I'm asking you to…." Lee stopped and shook his head, he wasn't going to get anywhere with Beaman. He wasn't even sure he knew what else to say at this point.

"You want me to cut you some slack and make it easy on you?" Efraim's tone was derisive.

Lee nodded and shot a look at the man next to him. "Yeah," he said. "That's what I'm asking you to do; to give me another chance. Give me another chance to make this right between you and me and to regain our friendship."

"We weren't _best_ friends before, Stetson," came Beaman's mocking reply.

"But we were friends, good friends. And maybe we can become better friends. Your wife has been one of my best friends for years and to risk losing that because you and I can't come to some kind of resolution, well, I don't want that to happen. All those years won't mean a thing to Francine because all that matters to her is you."

Efraim rubbed his eyes, he knew that Lee was right. And regardless of what had happened he didn't want Francine to be anymore upset than she had over this ordeal. He sighed. "Yeah, I can give you a break."

"Thanks."

"Just," he held up his hand in warning. "Don't push it."

Lee laughed, "Beaman, you have got to know by now that I always push it. Just like you do; that's why we're where we are in life right now; both pushing ourselves and everyone around us."

"You're probably right," Efraim chuckled. "I guess we're more alike than either of us would like to admit."

"Probably."

"What did you think about that place? What was with that assistant? It wasn't the guy whose name was in the initial reports."

Nodding his agreement, Lee gave a quick look at Beaman, relieved with the change of subject. "He was really wired tight, you notice that?"

"Yeah, he hasn't been there long; he's still listening at the door when anyone who's been in an office for any amount of time knows how to use the phone system to hear what's going on behind the boss's door."

"I wasn't buying the sympathy act from Cafferty either. He was sayin' the words, but the emotion wasn't there."

Both men thought about the visit, running the conversations through their minds. Beaman turned to look at Lee. "You never answered me, who cleared them?"

"The National Security liaison with the Department of Defense," Lee replied, nodding at Beaman's raised eyebrow.

"Why am I not surprised?" he sighed. "Well, I think we have a starting place. You keep going back to them; there's a reason for that.

"There's something just not right about the place."

"Well, that's good enough for me. Let's get back to the office and let me hit the computer, I'll see what I can get into."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee woke with a start as the printer came to life and spewed more reports. With a glance at his watch, he stood and stretched. Looking over at Beaman, he yawned and leaned on the desk. "Don't you ever get tired? Its 2:20 in the morning, can't we go home?"

"And you're so anxious to sleep on the couch?"

"That was only if we couldn't get along. What about Francine and the baby? Don't you want to go home?"

Beaman nodded. "More than you know, but I'll be honest with you--Franny has been less than happy because of this...situation... between you and me. The sooner I… the sooner we figure this out the happier my wife will be and the happier my home life will be." With a shrug, he went back to his computer screen.

"Enough, let's go home. I'll write you a note if that'll help."

Efraim laughed at the thought of Lee writing him a note so he could climb back into his own bed. "She'd accuse me of forging it--I did work in the Fabrication Shop!"

"Well, forge me one so I can go home; I've had enough today. Look, why don't we pick this up tomorrow? I think you're on track checking out Cafferty and his assistant Richards. Maybe we've been coming at this the wrong way by trying to track the weapons; looking at the people feels like it might lead somewhere for us."

"At least it won't be the same old dead end we keep hitting when we look for how those guns went missing."

"I'm on the same page with you, Beaman." He waved his hand toward the door. "What do you say?"

"See you tomorrow. Oh, make sure Amanda checks in on us so she can see us getting along."

"Now that _is_ pushing it, Beaman," Lee laughed. "But I like it. Think it'll work?"

"As long as we don't over do it; so contain your joy at seeing me tomorrow."

"I'll try to restrain my enthusiasm."

Beaman thrust his hand out to Lee who took it and shook it. "So I'll see you tomorrow then." he turned to his computer and began to shut it down.

Lee was at the door when he stopped and turned back. "Beaman?"

Beaman looked up, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Lee nodded and headed home. It had been a productive day after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Both men were in early the next day and working the problem.

"I've been wondering something all this time. How did they find you? How'd they find Francine?"

Beaman sighed, "I've lain awake every damn night since it happened wondering the same thing. Did I screw up somehow; miss a tag, a tail, anything and nothing. I don't know, Lee, but it eats at me."

"Me too; it has me looking over my shoulder. You said it didn't feel like anyone you had encountered before?"

"Yeah, it felt like a new player. And I have to tell you Lee; it's not those two clowns we have locked up. Somebody gave them the information."

"I agree. The fact that they're alive tells me they don't know this player by name or sight."

"I thought that too."

Lee stood and grabbed the dry erase pen on the board mounted on the wall. "So, what do we know? TP used to say that everything boiled down to organization. Let's organize what we know and see if we can't fill in the empty spaces."

"I miss TP; he spent a lot of time with me over the years."

Lee nodded. "Yeah, me too, he taught me that thinking outside of the box was good but that I had to keep the box in view to find the solution to the problem."

"I heard that more than a few times from him."

"Right now I'm feeling boxed in; I don't know how to find a way out of the box."

Sighing, Efraim leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. "So we start at the beginning."

"The Uzi's."

"Yeah, the Uzi's. How many shipments had gone missing when you asked me to run that trace?"

"That was the third shipment in five months. You were in Turkey when the first shipment was lifted."

"So January, and when was the second shipment?"

"April, the third was the end of August."

Lee paced the room while Efraim tottered in the chair lost in thought. Efraim pulled his feet off the desk and grabbed a pencil and started to tap it on his computer.

"And all three shipments were taken from Washington Industrial? Why? I mean, why did Defense use them again?"

"Good question. It's one that no one has the answer to."

"I guess it doesn't matter at this point, it happened and the guns are gone." Efraim watched as Lee took the marker and put a slash through the GAO. He sat up and pointed the pencil at the board. "Wait, before you do that, was it the same clerk who approved Washington with each shipment?"

"I don't know," shrugged Lee. "I never looked into that. Like I said before, a typical governmental screw up."

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Efraim made several entries on the computer, and then rested his head on his hand while the screen flashed in front of him.

Lee sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. "What are you thinking? That someone in the GAO is involved? Somebody higher than that?"

Beaman nodded. "Think about it--it has to be someone who has the authority to override the protocols in place that are supposed to keep something like this from happening. I mean, one shipment goes missing and that's supposed to be it."

"Yeah, I had thought about that. But everything checked out."

"So we have a typical government screw up… or how about a computer glitch?"

"Are you saying your ghost is with the government?" Lee pulled his hand through his hair as he whistled. "Damn, there _is_ someone left after Quigley and Carlson."

Efraim swore. "We're talking big money, there's always somebody willing to go after big money. It would explain a lot of things."

"It does at that. Like how they knew who Francine was."

"Yeah, that makes sense from that angle."

With a stern look at Beaman, Lee shook his head. "We have to be sure."

"I know."

"No, I mean we have to be sure."

"What? No shooting up the GAO? Come on Lee."

Lee tossed the pencil at him. "Can you get into the GAO from here?"

With a nod, Beaman started working on the computer.

"If this guy was hitting your security before, how can you stop him from finding out that we're checking out this lead?"

"Because we aren't going to tell anyone what we're doing. Not Billy, not Dr. Smyth, not Amanda and not Francine. My security was a victim of bureaucracy, I'm sure of it."

"I'm not following you, Beaman."

"I hadn't been exactly _delicate _using governmental assets for my search. I was stepping on toes and rubbing their noses in it. Smyth went to the president to clear my use of any and all open governmental computer memory. The president doesn't just say 'okay' and it all miraculously happens--somebody writes…."

"….an order for it." Lee finished. "That's how they knew it was you. That's how they knew to grab Francine." The two men looked at one another.

"Son of a bitch!" they growled.

"I have to find where I was the days up to the John's birth, what system I was running though." He stood and grabbed his jacket. "I need my reports," Efraim stopped at the door, Lee running into him. "Sorry," Efraim declared when Lee gave him an exasperated look. "Dr. Smyth has those reports."

"Damn. Do you think he filed them?"

Efraim sat back down and shook his head. "He had to; I had originally been working an _eyes only_ project ordered by the President."

"You don't think Smyth screwed you, do you?"

"I don't think he did. I think he could, but he didn't."

"What happened in Turkey that makes you believe that?"

Beaman tried to rub the burn out of his eyes. "A hell of a lot happened Stetson, a hell of a lot. I'll tell you this much about Smyth, he _is_ the spy master, don't ever forget that."

"Damn! I'd give a lot Beaman, to know what you know."

"No you wouldn't. You think you can't sleep nights now? Knowing what I know from Turkey will give you wide awake nightmares."

"It's that good, huh?"

"Yeah, it's that good," Efraim drummed his fingers on the desk, nodded his head and stood up. "Let's go, I need those reports that Smyth has and we're going to get them from him."

"I thought you said we can't tell Smyth?"

"We aren't going to tell him, so, we're going to blackmail him."

Lee managed to close his mouth when Beaman told him to hurry up. "You know, I'm in so much trouble with my wife as it is."

"You in?"

"Hell yes I'm in! Let's go!"

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee paced the Fabrication Shop keeping an eye out for anyone paying particular interest to what Beaman was doing. The funny thing was everyone seemed to be avoiding them. They had stalked through the Agency and agents in the halls had ducked into open doors and elevators as they passed through. The secretary in Fabrication had nearly run from the department when they walked in.

If this was notoriety, Lee liked it.

Beaman filled Lee in as he worked on a blank file that he suspected that Dr. Smyth was the infamous Choir Boy of Agency fame in the 60's. When they had returned from Turkey, Geiger and Beaman had done some digging only to come up with the location of a sealed vault with Zulu Azure clearance from the White House.

Lee had been mildly miffed to find he hadn't been told about their suspicions, but he let it go. He'd heard the stories about Choir Boy; they made his antics look like child's play. If Smyth was the agent in those stories, not only had Smyth written the book; he had also lived it.

Finishing the seal on the file, Efraim smiled at his handiwork. He spun in the chair to show the file to Lee.

"A file is going to get us what we need from Smyth? Did you get your last CAT Scan, because that shot to the head in Romania has got to be interfering with your thought processes?"

"Read the file, Stetson."

Grabbing the file, he nodded at the workmanship. He had to admit, Beaman was damn good at this stuff. He read the coding on the file and laughed,

'CODE NAME: CHOIR BOY

ZULU AZURE VERBAL APPROVAL BY PRESIDENTIAL COMMAND'

"Tell me again why we just can't ask him for the files?"

"This is the man who talks in octosyllabic rhyme, you think we can just waltz in and ask him to hand over his classified files? Besides, he would have to report my request to the National Security Advisor. I'd rather we avoid that type of entanglement." Efraim began to enter code into the computer system.

"I'd rather play in rush hour traffic myself," Lee shook his head as he watched. "So the plan is to say nothing, get access to the files and keep Smyth out of the loop and walk away from this."

"That's the plan."

"And we have to be on time too?" he asked with heavy sarcasm.

"Timing is everything Stetson, you know that."

"Yeah, how much time do we have?"

"You have the strobes?" Beaman continued to work on the computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

"These things will keep the prying eyes at bay."

"Good. Hand signals only after Smyth leaves the office."

"Understood."

"Okay, we go black and the tapes are set to rewind in…." he looked at his watch and nodded to Lee, "in 30 minutes. Mark"

Both men left fabrication and headed to Dr. Smyth's office. Pushing through the doors of smoked glass, Lee thought how appropriate the tone of those doors was. He stopped at Smyth's assistant's desk and the thought crossed his mind that he was enjoying himself.

"The director is expecting you, gentlemen, please go in."

Beaman raised his eyebrows at Lee's grin. Beaman had called it right, they would have to be on their toes from here on out.

"Scarecrow, Boy Scout, how entertaining to see you; have a seat if you please."

Lee noted that as soon as they sat down, Beaman hit his watch function; the clock was now running.

"Dr. Smyth, I need to get into your files."

Smyth raised his eyebrows and grinned. "That sounds remarkably like a proposition, gentlemen."

"Yes sir."

"Ah, Boy Scout! You're running this shake down, are you?"

"No sir, not a shake down, just a glance, my eyes only."

"And the Scarecrow is here for?"

"He didn't have anything pressing and he thought he'd come along for the ride."

"I thought so. What are you looking for Boy Scout? I'll give it to you."

"I can't ask the man who wrote the book to do that, sir."

Smyth steepled his fingers when Beaman referenced the rules of engagement book and stared at the agent across from him for a moment. "Then we are at an impasse," he pronounced.

With a glance to Lee, Beaman handed Dr. Smyth the file he had fabricated. Both men noted the slight look of surprise which Smyth quickly covered.

"I see you've put the time you've spent together to good effect."

"No sir, I have."

"I see. And you believe this will get you unfettered access to my files?"

Beaman nodded, "It was a shot in the dark, sir." Both men were suddenly thrust back to a night in Turkey when fateful shots did ring out in the shadows.

With a toss of the file back to Beaman, Smyth leaned back in his chair and studied the two men across from him. Suddenly Smyth laughed. "How much time do you need, Boy Scout?"

"One hour."

Another crack of laughter rang in the room. "Come now Beaman, that's not a glance, that's an expedition. Ten minutes."

"Thirty."

"Fifteen."

"Twenty."

"Done." With an amused look at Lee he asked, "And what have you learned from this session, Scarecrow?"

"To take Turkish lessons."

Smyth ambled to his door, his hand on the knob when he turned back to Lee and Beaman. "Twenty minutes from the close of this door. It's been a pleasure, gentlemen!" With that, the door closed.

Beaman flashed his hand three times to signal fifteen minutes. Both men gloved and Efraim headed straight to the bookcase while Lee strategically placed the strobes around the room.

Handing Beaman a set of special goggles that matched the ones he now wore, he flicked a switch and the room was flooded with intersecting strobe lights. Turning back to the bookcase, he stepped back as it swung open.

Quickly, they pulled out their lock picks and went about opening the files. Beaman found the file cabinet that housed the work authorized by the White House and looked through the files. He found and pulled the file he needed and taking a pen from his pocket, he rolled a pen scanner across the pages, copying them as quickly as he could.

Lee watched the time, tapping Beaman on the shoulder and giving the sign for six minutes. Beaman nodded, closed the file and replaced it. He re-locked the files, stepped out and closed the vault and bookcase. With a nod to Lee, the strobes went off and they both raced to collect them. Beaman pointed to the incinerator housed in the wall that would destroy anything placed inside of it. In went all of the gear they brought with them as well as the bogus file, Lee pulling the goggles off of Beaman's head at the last moment and tossing them inside as the door closed. Beaman pushed the activation button and sighed when he heard the unit kick in.

Lee gave him the one minute sign and both men went to the door and left. The outer office was empty as they hurried to the stairwell. They climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time and made good time to the Q Bureau, closing its door behind them just as the lights in the Agency flickered and went out.

Pulling the pen he had made the copies with, he stuck it in the cup on Amanda's desk that held a collection of pencils, pens and markers. Lee sat in his chair; Beaman dragged another one over, kicked it back and put his feet up on Lee's desk.

The sound of boots running up the stairs caused smiles to break out in the Q Bureau. Lee tossed a pencil to Beaman and he grabbed a marker and went to the board on the wall and quickly set up an outline of their organizational theories. With glances at their watches, they picked up the threads of a conversation they would have been having had they been in the office all morning.

"We should put 'unknown' in that box."

"Agreed, and here?"

Beaman never got the chance to answer as the door swung open and Dr. Smyth followed by Billy and several armed guards crowded into the Q Bureau.

"Well, well, well, I see you made good time gentlemen. Excellent attempt Boy Scout, but no cigarillo!"

"I'm sorry Dr. Smyth, did you need something?" Beaman shot back.

"Search them!"

Lee held his hands up and Beaman stood and joined him. The youngest of the guards was pushed up front to frisk them. Lee managed to contain his smile when he saw the young man was actually shaking. "You know, when you search someone, you should make sure your firearm is secure. You don't want someone to grab it and use it on you, do you?"

Beaman coughed to cover his laughter, sobering when he saw the look on Billy's face. They let the young guard take their service pieces which they quickly retrieved when the young man set them on Lee's desk and retreated behind the other men.

"Why don't you just ask us what you're looking for, Dr. Smyth?" Lee asked. He was back in his territory now and he'd dictate the conversation.

"Where's the file Beaman brought to my office and I want any files you took from my office. Now Scarecrow, before I lose my patience with you both."

"Lee…." Billy warned.

"We didn't take any files from your office. And anything we had, we left there."

The phone rang and Lee reached for it slowly, not taking his eyes off of the guards or Dr. Smyth. "Q Bureau…yeah, just a minute." Lee handed the receiver to Dr. Smyth.

"Smyth….right….are you sure?" He handed the phone back to Lee and turned to Billy and the guards. "William, take these nice young men for a walk, I'll catch up shortly."

He watched as Billy gave his agents a look that conveyed both warning and threat and then followed the guards out.

"That phone call was security telling me there is no tape of either of you approaching my office, leaving my office or even entering the building this morning. My personal security has been white washed by the untested strobe units from R&D, which by the way can't be located. I have no proof that either of you entered my office today. Cards on the table boys, this hand is over."

"It has to do with Francine's kidnapping."

"And my missing Uzi's."

"Do the two of you dare to tell me you think I had anything to do with either?" Both agents had seen Smyth annoyed, Beaman had seen him angry before, but neither had seen the searing fury that the director displayed now.

Beaman hurried to explain. "No, we don't think that. That's not what this is about."

"Then what and you have 30 seconds to explain it to me!" Smyth blasted them.

"We need operational security; we can't have our actions and requests reported outside of this office."

"Why didn't you just explain that?"

"Would you have listened to that explanation? Without us giving you more information?"

"No."

"That's why."

Smyth sat on the edge of Amanda's desk. "And when did you find out about the Choir Boy designation."

"The code name? Turkey. Who it was assigned to? About 20 minutes ago."

Smyth laughed. "Excellent. And why did you feel the need to hold it over my head?"

"It was the only way I could think to corner you into giving us the access we needed without reporting what I wanted to see. _By the book,_ Dr. Smyth. I wasn't going to put anyone in the way of getting the information we need to find who took my wife and Lee's weapons."

"Like Turkey," Smyth nodded at the agent who had shared that late night operation in the souks of Istanbul with him, the night he had stepped in and executed the order meant for Beaman to fulfill. An order he hadn't told the agent of to protect him. "Do you have what you need?"

"I'm not sure I'm following you Dr. Smyth."

The chuckle wasn't lost on either Lee or Beaman who knew that the spy master understood they weren't about to confirm anything.

"Has he told you about Turkey, Scarecrow?"

"Just that telling me would cause me some hellish nightmares."

Climbing off the desk, Smyth regained his normal unflappable composure. "It might, it just might at that. Good day kiddies, do continue to play nicely with one another."

When the door closed on Dr. Smyth, both Lee and Beaman sat down. With raised eyebrows, Lee leaned on the desk. "That was damn close."

"It was."

"You don't have to confirm this, but the reason we're still sitting here is you shot Carlson in Turkey?"

"Carlson was shot in the souks while out for a late evening walk. I know better than to travel the markets of Istanbul at night and alone."

"You're not going to even give me that, are you?" Lee nodded, secrets were secrets and some secrets even stayed that way.

"Lee, even if I could tell you what happened, you wouldn't believe it. I'll leave it at this; none of us are what we seem to be."

With a laugh, Lee grabbed the marker and stepped back to the board. "Do we want to finish this here, or are we headed to your place?"

"Let's go to mine, we've set things in motion here that I don't want to deal with today."

"Think Smyth will play games?"

Laughing, Beaman found his pen in Amanda's cup and headed toward the door. "I'm counting on it, Stetson, I'm counting on it.


	4. Chapter 4

Amanda Stetson climbed the steps to the third floor study where she heard Lee and Efraim talking. Their tones sounded normal which gave her hope that the day they had spent working together had been productive…and uneventful. She looked through the open door; papers were tacked to nearly every surface. She could hear the steady drum of a pencil eraser hitting the desk and that of her husband's voice as he read shipping instructions. She was just about to head back downstairs when Francine's shout had her grabbing the banister.

"Beaman! You had better get down here right now!"

Silence reigned for a moment or two, then a couple of 'damns' from Beaman and Lee as they rushed from the room. Beaman avoided her as he flew down the stairs to answer Francine's summons.

"What's going on?" Lee asked as he kissed Amanda on the cheek.

Amanda planted her finger on the center of Lee's chest, "I was about to ask you the same thing, buster. What's going on?"

Lee shrugged. "I have no clue. We've been right here working most of the afternoon."

"Stetson!"

Both Lee and Amanda looked surprised, but Francine did not sound like she was happy at all. Amanda gave Lee a shove. "Well, go on. The two of you had better have a very good reason for whatever you did."

With a sigh, Lee went to find Francine and Beaman, Amanda trailing along behind him. Francine was waiting at the bottom of the steps, hands on her hips and foot tapping. It was a look Lee was familiar with and it usually didn't bode well for the person she was waiting for. Unfortunately, that was him.

"What do the two of you think you were doing today?"

"Uh, we were working on the Uzi's, Franny."

"Don't you Franny me, John Efraim Beaman. Who did the two of you threaten to shoot today when you were frisked…"with a nod to Amanda, "_frisked _in the Q Bureau today?"

"You threatened to shoot someone in the Q Bureau?"

"Where they were _frisked;_ evidently under the direct orders of Dr. Smyth for breaking into his private files this morning!"

"Good news travels fast," Lee rejoined.

"And you," she turned her ire on Lee. "You should know better, but I'll bet you were knee deep 

in this too!"

"Who told you this?" Efraim was beginning to get annoyed, particularly because someone was speaking out of school and this was what he didn't want.

"Dr. Smyth just called to ask how my day out shopping was and if we enjoyed the escort that you and Lee provided for us and oh by the way, to ask if the two of you changed the entry code to his personal files when you blackmailed your way into unfettered access!"

"Sounds bad," Efraim looked at Lee with a grin and raised eyebrow.

"Glad that wasn't us," Lee agreed.

Both turned innocent eyes back to Francine. "Franny, if either of us had done that, do you think we'd be standing here?"

Francine had taken breath to launch another salvo when she sighed. "That's what I don't understand. I believe that the two of you are capable of doing it; I just don't know why you're both still here. Dr. Smyth sounds rather jovial about the entire affair. And why did you send babysitters to tail us today?"

"I sent them Francine, because your husband is concerned about your safety after what happened and it was little enough to do to give him some peace of mind so we could work today."

No one had paid attention to Amanda who walked back in to the living room. "I just got off the telephone with Mrs. Marston. She was monitoring the panels for a few minutes this morning and said that the two of you stalked the hallways with such black scowls on your faces that seasoned agents were ducking into closets to get out of your path. And that nice young MP who was assigned last month has requested a transfer after being forced to frisk the two of you! She said both of you made him so nervous when you laughed at him!"

"We didn't laugh."

"Well, _you_ did, but you covered it up pretty quick." Lee reminded Beaman.

"You're the one who told him he should secure his weapon when patting a suspect down so it wasn't taken and used against him."

"That's good advice!"

"Where's John, Francine?" It dawned on Efraim that his son wasn't there.

"I put him in his crib, he was asleep." Amanda quickly told him, knowing that Efraim really was concerned about safety since the kidnapping.

"What happened at the Agency today, Beaman?"

Francine's harsh use of their last name told Efraim how annoyed she was with him. He sighed; this part had been easier when he and Lee had discussed it earlier. "We were working in the Q Bureau, tracking the Uzi's. That's all."

"Did you two have anything to do with the power fluctuation today?" Amanda glared at them; they both were capable of pulling such a stunt.

"Amanda, please! There's no possible way to interrupt the power at the Agency, you know that," her husband reminded her.

Francine was still chewing over the call from Smyth. "And Dr. Smyth, he had you frisked?"

"Yes he did. And what does the fact that we're standing here tell you?"

"I don't know. Smyth certainly wouldn't pass up the chance to throw you in jail."

Amanda nodded. Francine was probably right.

"Especially you Lee."

"Hey!"

"No, what he wouldn't pass up is the chance to have Lee shot," Efraim weighed in on the subject.

"Hey!! I'm standing right here!"

"Well Efraim, you've certainly joined the big leagues now. And to assign me a tail, I can't believe you did that to me!"

The weight of the day, the circumstances surrounding his son's birth and his wife's kidnapping, the black box on his computer, all of it hit Efraim at once. He held up his hand when Francine began to rerun her litany of complaints. "Let me tell you something; I will do what ever it takes to find who ordered your kidnapping. My heart stopped that day when I walked in and heard you being taken by those bastards. I didn't come back to life again until I picked you up in my arms in Rock Creek Park. And every time I leave or you walk out of this house my heart stops and the problem is this Franny; I'm afraid you'll never come home again to bring me back to life. So you yell and complain all you want, but you should just write it down and run off some copies and give them to me because until this is over, you'll be repeating yourself."

He turned and climbed the stairs. The slam of the door let everyone know the conversation as far as Efraim was concerned, was closed.

Lee sighed as both women turned to him.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Arlington never seemed as quiet as when Lee pulled the Rover into the driveway that evening.. Amanda had been silent on the drive home from Georgetown where he Amanda and Francine what he thought they could reasonably get away with.

He had told them none of what they really were up to.

Beaman had argued that the only way to keep operational security was to keep those who knew down to a minimum. That minimum was Lee and Beaman. Smyth knew enough that if heads popped up or took unexpected cover, he'd let them know. Smyth would also play games seeing to it that their families were looked after, and it would drive them all a little crazy. They had decided when they had put that aspect of the plan together that crazy they could live with.

And while he thought it might be overkill, Lee had to confess that Beaman was probably right about it all.

The soft glow from the family room greeted them as they walked through the kitchen door. Coming in that house never failed to give Lee a sense of belonging and he felt it keenly that night. And all he just wanted to sit in silence and think about the day.

Slipping into the breakfast nook, he put his head in his hands. His mind kept coming back to what Beaman had told Francine about his heart stopping when she had been kidnapped and only coming back to life when he had found her; Lee understood exactly what he was saying. He had lived with that fear too. He had never wanted to feel that way again. And Efraim's words had brought it all rushing back.

Amanda came up behind him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Where are you?"

"Nightcrawler."

"I thought so."

"Amanda, I swear I never dreamed that Francine would be hurt, I never would have wanted anything to happen to her."

"I know that, we all know that," she hugged him tightly, knowing how upset he was. "You and Beaman have this pretty well planned out."

Shrugging, he leaned back and took Amanda's hand in his; he had known that Amanda would see their story for what it was, pure baloney. "He's desperate to get to the bottom of this; I'm really worried that if he finds out who did this, he'll take matters into his own hands." Lee shook his head as he reflected on the day's events. "The only reason those Moldavians are still alive is that Francine was in labor when we found her."

Amanda pulled out a chair and sat down. "So you don't think someone broke through his security?"

"No."

"And why is Smyth a player? Does Efraim trust him?"

"Yeah, Beaman trusts him. Hell, he respects him and has a healthy fear of his abilities. And he won't spill about Turkey."

Amanda agreed. "Francine goes all wide eyed and innocent when asked."

"I don't know what happened and part of me thinks maybe its best that I don't know."

"So I should keep an eye out, be extra vigilant?"

With a sigh, Lee nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry Amanda. We're going to have babysitters until this is over."

"Just don't let me find any of them dead in our driveway, Stetson."

A halfhearted chuckle escaped him. "I'll do my best ma'am." He kissed her hand and stood up, pulling her into his arms. "Tomorrow is gonna be a busy day and I have to keep up with Beaman whose mind is running at warp speed."

"Can you stop him?"

"Stop him? I'm going to see to it that he finds who ever he's looking for and that they get exactly what they deserve."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

"Beaman, I don't think we're going to find a name outright. We have to put the pieces of this puzzle together bit by bit."

The sound of Beaman's fist hitting his desk reverberated throughout the room. "Dammit, Lee, I understand that! I'm looking for anything that jumps out, something that's out of the ordinary. It always comes down to one person. Always!"

"Let's go."

"We don't have time to go anywhere; I've got work to do."



Leaning over the desk, Lee got right in Beaman's face. "I'm pulling rank as a senior officer. Get your backside off that chair and follow me now. Am I making myself clear?"

"Go to hell, Stetson," growled Efraim as he locked down his computer, stood and stormed out of his office.

"In that case, lead the way," was his retort.

Eyes watched as the two men left the bullpen. Sighs of relief and cautious grins broke out amongst the agents working there.

Billy watched the scene from his office. Maybe now they'd be able to get some work done without the oppressive atmosphere that Stetson and Beaman carried with them. On the other hand he smiled to himself; the knowledge that Smyth would follow every move the two men made gave him some peace of mind.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee parked in the lot by the Washington Monument and sighed. The ride out of Georgetown had been silent and the air inside the Corvette was thick with tension. Lee climbed from the car and leaned against the door as he waited for Beaman to climb out.

Hearing the passenger door slam, he pointed to the monuments in the area. "Remember that first time I brought you down here? Right after Francine dumped Stone? How many laps did we take around the monument?"

Beaman had leaned on the top of the Vette, and he shook his head. "I don't know; we ran most of the morning that first time. Seems like years ago."

"Do you remember what I told you?"

Efraim sighed.

"I told you to be patient," Lee gave a short laugh. "Yeah, here I was telling you to be patient and that's what I lacked in spades. I was repeating what every older agent I had ever worked with had tried to tell me. I was passing it on to you. And I'm saying it again now; be patient. Because you're the only one I know who can get into that computer and do what you do with it. And if you're rushing and forcing things to fit, you're gonna miss something or somebody is gonna get wind of what we're doing. And believe me; I know what I'm talking about."

"She's my life, Lee. If something happened to her or the baby, I don't know what I'd do." Beaman walked around the Vette and matched Lee's position against the car. "I've loved her for years and I can't lose either of them."



"That is not gonna happen. I won't let it--we won't let it happen. This is one of the down sides of being in this business and having your spouse as your partner. It's one of the reasons Amanda doesn't come into the field as often anymore. You have a lot of things to think about for the future, but right now we're gonna focus on this problem and you and I are going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you we _will_ find who took Francine."

"I take it I'm getting this _pep talk _because I've been a bit intense lately?"

Lee laughed outright. "Yeah Boy Scout, you've been intense. Both of us have been. Let's take a step back." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beaman nod his head. He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Don't you think it's strange that Washington Industries was nearly empty when we were there? I mean it was a Tuesday!"

Lee sighed, they were back to their feelings about buildings again. "Have you heard anything I've said to you??"

"Yeah, you're right. We need to step back and I need to dial back the intensity. Thanks. But don't you think it was strange?"

Lee shook his head. At least Beaman had acknowledged the need to take it down a notch. He thought about what he had said. "You know, you're right, it is strange for a place like that to be empty, on any day of the week."

"Exactly."

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"We need to check them out and not that stuff they've been feeding us in their reports. Let's take it outside the standard contractor route; let's really check out the company."

"What happened to all their employees?"

Beaman slapped Lee on the shoulder. "That's what we're going to find out. Come on, we have work to do and I'm starving," he told Lee as he headed down the Mall.

Lee broke into a run to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"There's a concession stand over there; I told you I'm starving. I haven't eaten today."

"Are you buying?"

"Yeah, I'm buying."

"Hurry up then!"


	5. Chapter 5

Amanda Stetson tried the door to the Q Bureau only to find it locked. She pulled out her key card and slid it through the groove and pushed the handle.

Nothing.

Frowning, she slid her card again and leaned on the door. She gave another push with some additional oomph only to be rewarded with the intruder alarm blaring overhead. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath while she waited for the MP's to show up and hopefully her husband and Efraim Beaman.

The MP's rounded the corner just as Lee reached the top of the stairs from the Georgetown entrance. Amanda pointed at her husband as he walked over to her.

"You had better have a good explanation for this, buster!"

"Ah guys, at ease." The MP's nodded and quickly left the area, side-stepping Beaman as he came around the corner.

"Who set off the alarm?" he asked only to stop cold in his tracks when he saw Amanda.

"It seems I did Efraim. Either of you want to tell me why my entry card is no longer opening my office door?" She looked from one to the other, finally letting her gaze settle on her husband.

"Ah, Amanda yeah, ah, we decided we needed to work in a more secure location, away from the bullpen and all the people down there. So, ah, we, ah, I decided to move Beaman up here."

"It's temporary Amanda, just until we finish this mess."

Her glare was glacial as she turned toward the stairs. "You could have told me, I would have understood. We'll discuss this later Lee when we get home. We'll discuss moving things around at home." With a crisp turn, her skirt flaring around her knees, she descended the steps.

"Jeez Lee, I'm sorry."

Lee rolled his eyes. "She'll cool down. I should have called her and told her about this, it just made sense to do it quickly so we could start."

"Yeah, I had better tell Francine before she hears about this from somebody."

"Is this what you meant by Smyth playing games?"

"Yep, this is the down side to all of it."

"Remind me what the plus side is?" Lee opened the Q Bureau door, watching Beaman set his laptop down on Amanda's desk.

"He's watching our backs while he gets his own back for our little scavenger hunt through his files."

Lee locked the door and went to his desk and sat down. "This had all better be worth it."

Beaman rubbed his face as he sat down and turned on his laptop. Turning back to the desktop, he pulled out the keyboard and started to access the programming. "You have those DOD reports? Let's start by pulling out every government employee involved in this disaster. I'm going to get into Washington Industrial and access their employment files."

"You going in direct?"

Beaman smirked. "More or less, I'll find a low level employee that surfs while working and sneak in from there." He looked over the top of his monitor. "From here on out, we don't discuss this outside of this office. We can't take any chances. I have to keep printouts of what we've found; do you have something secure in the film vault?"

Lee put his feet on his desk. "We have the fire vault inside--it drops into the secure zone in the event of attack, fire, all of the usual protocols. Are you thinking what I'm thinking on where this will end up?"

Nodding, Beaman went back to work. "I'm willing to bet this goes up pretty high. Smyth must think the same as that's the only reason he hasn't had us arrested, jailed and the keys thrown away. It certainly won't look bad for his resume for us to bust a high level weapons ring."

"You think we'll find the guns?"

Efraim shrugged. "I honestly don't know, but I doubt it. We'll find who took them, where they initially went after they were lifted. We'll shut down the factory that's doing the altering. So, all of this is worthwhile."

Lee knew that Beaman was just being realistic about the guns, but damn, he wanted them all back. With a sigh, he started entering the names of anyone who had anything to do with the approval of Washington Industrial as the shipper of those Uzi's.

At Beaman's chuckle, Lee looked up. "You get in?"

"Yep, this is the security guy who we screwed with the other day. This guy must be really bored; he logs in several times an hour to some of the more eclectic peep show sites!"

"Nice. Glad to know my tax dollars are hard at work."

"Exactly. You know, their security is pretty good as far as me getting into their system--this may take me a bit of time," he leaned back in his chair, a strange look on his face as he read the programming. "This script looks familiar to me, but I just can't place it."

Lee strolled over and looked over Beaman's shoulder. Shaking his head at the speed in which Beaman accessed information out of Washington's database, he went back to his desk and continued to compile names.

The printer finally edged into Lee's consciousness. Looking up, he watched Beaman working between the laptop and desktop. "What ya got?" Beaman had once told him that when he hacked into a system he used both computers to put up roadblocks and cover his tracks.

"One of the ways to hide when you're in a system is to actually shuffle around actual work and these guys are lacking any real day to day input, by anyone. So I'm just doing some realignment on their system."

"No one is working over there?"

"Nope."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean by _realignment._ You're fixing their computer system?"

With a laugh, Beaman explained. "In a manner of speaking, I'm fixing pathways so it's easier for me to get in and hide. I found a pattern and I'm exploiting it, that's all."

A final click on 'enter' and Efraim pushed back from the desk and stretched. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back, resting his feet on the desk as he grabbed the printouts and began reading the information he found there.

"They've let go 85 percent of their work force. The balance is security with a couple of senior officers and clerical."

"Washington Industrial? How the hell do you run a business like that with only 15 percent of your staffing compliment? Let me see that." Lee reached for the papers that Efraim handed him and read the information for himself. "This makes no sense."

"It does if you're bankrupt." Getting up from the computer, he leaned over Lee's desk and pointed out the evidence detailing the firm's financial status. "These are the real books--we can assume the others have been cooked."

"Damn!" Lee pulled out the file he had filled with information he'd been compiling on Washington Industrial and looked for the report on the company's financial status. "Here, look at this," he handed Beaman several pages. "That is their financial filings for the end if the second quarter this year."

The sole of Beaman's shoes hit the top of the desk with a thud as he read through the report. "I just love a good fairy tale," he mused as he thumbed through the financials. "This stuff is just classic--nice and flush, showing healthy funds all the way around. I wonder what happened to all this," he dropped the papers on the desk and pulled his keyboard toward him.

"What about the employees? I mean, they're showing monies going into retirement and unemployment--even health care."

"Gone, all of it is gone. It's been gone for a while too. As far back as, this is strange, about six months before they got the initial contract for shipping your Uzi's"

"Where are you getting that information?"

"The bank."

Lee's eyes rose above the reports he had been reading. "The bank? You're into their bank reports?"

"Nope, their bank."

"So you're telling me you've hacked into their bank? Their actual bank? The bank of _we don't have the money here_ bank?"

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

Lee frowned as he gave it some thought. "I'm not sure."

"You didn't have a problem hacking into my computer that night."

_Here we go_, Lee thought on a sigh. Well, Beaman was right; he hadn't had a problem hacking into the man's computer. He let his gaze rest on the agent, only to find Beaman' stare pinned on him; intense, focused and grim. "You're wrong. I did have a problem with it, but I pushed all of those thoughts and objections aside because I thought my goal was higher than the law and our friendship."

A nod of his head indicated he had heard Lee as he leaned back in his chair; Beaman studied the man in front of him. _He's right_, he told himself. He knew Lee was right. "If I stay inside the law, everything we've done goes out the window. We might as well take out full page ads in the Post and Times telling the world what we're doing because the people we're looking for will find out. We can't risk losing the chance to find who took those guns. I can't risk my wife and son. You can't risk your wife and family."

Lee blew out the breath he had been holding. "How do you suggest we stay out of jail? You can break into the sordid dreams of every elected official in town for all I care, but one of us has to make sure we are still standing when this is over."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about that particular aspect. I mean, I just assumed that point." The two men thought about it before they both pushed back their chairs and stood at the same time.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking Beaman?"

"I guess I am," he laughed. "Let's go see…

"…Smyth." Lee slapped him on the back as they walked out the door.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee and Beaman were waved into Dr. Smyth's office without a word being said to them by the autocratic dragon that guarded the inner sanctum. Lee had grinned at Beaman's raised eyebrow. With a flourish, he held the door open, following Beaman into the director's office.

"Ah, Scarecrow and Boy Scout. Have a seat. Back for another go round?"

"In a manner of speaking Dr. Smyth, we are."

"I see it's your turn Stetson. Short straw this draw?"

Lee desperately wanted to run his finger between his throat and shirt; the old man certainly made him hot under the collar so he cleared his throat instead. "We need pardons."

Smyth hadn't expected that. His eyebrows rose as he sat back in his chair. The Cheshire grin wasn't far behind. "Who might you be planning to kill Scarecrow?"

"No one."

"Yet," Beaman added with a wicked grin.

Smyth's ice blue stare zeroed in on Beaman. "Should I regret your enforced partnership?"

"Definitely, Lee does." He brushed off Stetson's half-hearted objection. "It occurs to us that we might not exactly follow the letter of the law as we go about this…partnership. While the results will be what we desire, our place of residence and employment should also be of our choosing."

"Two pardons, in advance."

"Just like that Scarecrow?"

"Just like that Dr. Smyth."

"Done."

Both Lee and Beaman laughed. "We'll have the originals, with one each in our files."

"What are the two you doing? In all seriousness, what are you doing? Beaman, surely you know I can be trusted?" Gone was the sing-song rhetoric and in its place was the Smyth that Efraim had encountered in the darkened courtyards of the Turkish souk.

"I know that sir. I mean no disrespect, but you did write the book on operational security."

"How high up do you think this goes gentlemen?"

Beaman shot a glance at Lee. "Up sir?"

Smyth looked at the two men in front of him. They were the best he had at what they did. The thought crossed his mind that they probably wouldn't even need the pardons, but it was their way of letting him know what they were doing or they had guilty consciences. Probably both, he concluded.

He looked both men in the eye--Scarecrow was direct with his returned look. Smyth saw the dislike the man had for him but no motive other than the Uzi's. Boy Scout however was intense, his gaze was shuttered and dark. The elder spy knew the younger man was planning to kill whoever had ordered the kidnapping of his pregnant wife.

Smyth had to find a way to let him run and at the same time keep the agent reigned in; he couldn't afford Beaman to go rogue. They'd never find him if he ran and if they were able to track him; they'd never get him fully back.

His decision was made; he had to give them they what they asked for, with provisions. "I will obtain pardons for each of you, names to be filled when needed so as not to tip your hands. Efraim?"

Beaman was shocked, the director never called anyone but Billy by anything other than their code name or last name. "Sir?"

"I want your word as an officer and a gentleman that you will not execute your prey."

Anger rolled from Beaman. Heat flashed his face and his eyes blazed. Lee's eyes narrowed as he watched the man he had been partnered with.

Damn thing was, Stetson knew exactly how Beaman was feeling.

"Do you understand me, Commander? Your word as an officer..."

Jerking upright, he stood up and the chair nearly fell over backwards as he did so. Lee grabbed it before it hit the floor. Both he and Dr. Smyth watched Beaman stalk from the office, the heavy door slamming behind him.

"Watch him Stetson."

"Dr Smyth, how do you expect me to do that when I feel the same damn way? I'm the third wheel at his party. His mind is working overtime and frankly, he can ride roughshod over every senator, congressman, cabinet member or privacy law he wants. But I have to make sure he doesn't get careless in his drive to find who ordered his wife's kidnapping. And I'm going to see to it that whoever did receives exactly what they deserve. But my problem is this; I promised Francine that her husband would come through this safe."

"I find it ironic that you are now in the very situation that William often found himself placed with you."

"That hasn't escaped my notice Dr. Smyth."

"Is he telling you everything?"

Lee nodded; he had to admit that Beaman was pretty up front with him about everything. He had to keep the status quo. "Yeah he is, for now. I have to see to it that it stays that way."

The match flared as Smyth struck the head. He stared at the flame before blowing it out and dropping the spent stick in an ash tray on his desk. Lee hadn't seen the director smoke in nearly a year and the matches had surprised him. Smyth noted Lee's surprise with amusement.

"I find I miss the tang of sulfur and the compelling flicker of the flame. I have learned one thing from my fascination of fire; if you aren't paying attention it will burn you. And if you're not careful it will engulf you."

"Dr. Smyth, I've never had the patience or ability to understand your double talk. Maybe that's why you and Beaman get along so well; he understands you, what you say and more to the point, what you don't. But I _do_ understand what's driving Beaman and I'll rein him in as much as I can. And I'll do everything possible to see that he extracts the reprisal he needs to sleep at night."

"Peacefully?"

Lee stood and headed for the door. With his hand on the handle he turned to the older spy. "You tell me Dr. Smyth; do you sleep peacefully? After all the time you've been in this business? I sure as hell rarely do." He let the door slam behind him.

Dr. Smyth sighed. "Neither do I," he said to the empty room. "Neither do I."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee slid his identification card through the reader. The light turned green and he gave a mental sigh of relief; he had half expected Beaman to lock him out.

He pushed open the door and cautiously entered the Q Bureau. Beaman was at his desk working away on the computer. Stuffing his badge in his pocket, he closed the door and walked to his desk. Plunking his feet on his desk, he got comfortable in the chair and studied Beaman. "You want to tell me why that sent you over the edge?"

"No."

He reminded himself that one of the things he liked about Beaman was his directness. Not necessarily at this moment, but in general he did appreciate that in the man. "You and Smyth are talking in a language I'm not able to understand. Something he said to you royally pissed you off and somehow I'm supposed to work around it. I'd give a lot to know what went down in Turkey, but right now that pales compared to what's going on."

"It's nothing."

"Dammit Beaman, it's something! I know that you plan on finding the person who ordered Francine taken and that you plan to kill them. Fine. I'll help you. But your wife called me and begged me to make sure you came through all of this and make it home to her whole and by God, I'm going to see to it that you do just that. If I have to shoot you myself I will, but you will go home to your wife and son. So, I suggest you stop proving to me that you can handle this all on your own and let me help you because if you don't, I'm marching downstairs to Amanda and telling her to suspend us both. Then we'll be outside the protection of the Agency."

"Fine, I don't need the Agency."

"You had better check with Francine on that, she just might have something to say about you running off half cocked."

Lee held his ground as Beaman glared at him. The thought occurred to him _'if looks could kill…'_ "You've accused me of being an ass in the past, and you were probably right. Well Beaman, you're being an ass. You're one of the smartest men I've ever met and right now, you've thrown all that out the window in your march for revenge. Well, you want revenge? Let's do it smart so you can enjoy it when this is all over. Finish this the right way so when its done, you can go home to your wife who adores you and your son who needs you and you can sit in your home and laugh at those who thought they could away with this unscathed."

He could see the warring thoughts as they raced across Beaman's face. Lee hoped appealing to the man's intelligence would win out against the need to make someone pay. If Beaman went rogue, it would be ugly. And he had a fleeting thought that they might not be able to stop Beaman if he did go outside the boundaries. "You ever hear about Nightcrawler?"

"Yep. I was here."

"Then you know what happened--you know what I did."

"You did what you always did."

Lee laughed. Beaman had a point, he _had_ done what he always did; ran rough shod over anyone who got in his way.

"Yeah, I did. I put everyone into danger. I pulled Francine into a situation that had it gone wrong, she probably would never have forgiven herself. I should have given it more thought, but I didn't have the time--Amanda didn't have the time."

"Are you saying I have to go about this in a different manner?"

"Yeah, I am. You have the time to pull this together so we have a solid case, a real chance to bring everyone involved in this to justice. Let's stop for the afternoon and let's put what we know and what we don't down on paper. Let's build a trap and when it springs, we'll have them all."

Lee watched as Beaman stared at his computer screen. He knew that Beaman was running the possibilities through his head, weighing factors and the desire for vengeance against Lee's argument.

"We don't want to miss anyone, Beaman. We don't want anyone left standing when we're done," he saw the surprise in the other agent's eyes and Lee realized that this was the first time he had expressed his own desire for retribution. Funny thing was, he felt that need keenly and he just hadn't thought he deserved that right. It dawned on him his own need for revenge might be the very thing that tipped the balance with Beaman.

"No, we don't want to miss anyone," he rubbed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair. "Son of a bitch!" Efraim jumped from the chair and ran for the door.

"What? Beaman, what is it?" Lee was fast behind him, the fear he heard in the man's voice lent urgency to his actions.

"They know we're looking into all of this—son of a bitch I didn't think of it!" He was down the steps and in the Georgetown entry in moments.

"You're talking about Washington Industrial?"

Beaman came to a stop beside Mrs. Marston's desk causing the guardian of the foyer to eye the two men with a certain amount of trepidation. "They know," his voice was thick with desperation, Lee could feel the fear radiate from the man.

"Let's fix it now."

"Francine…"

"Is fine; let's fix this now."

Beaman stood transfixed, the need to see his wife and son safe and the desire to nail her kidnappers battled within him.

"Gentlemen, if I might interject?" Mrs. Marston stepped into the fray, "I will call Mrs. Beaman and find a suitable reason to inquire after her," she said as Beaman was about to interrupt, "and then will transfer her to you in the Q Bureau. Will that suit your needs and allow you to continue?"

"Beaman?" Lee watched as Beaman nodded and climbed the stairs to the Q Bureau, each step extracting a heavy toll from the reserves of his energy. Lee locked the door to the bureau behind them as Efraim fell back into his chair; his body slumped under the weight of the burden he shouldered.

"How do we fix this?" he rasped as he stared straight ahead.

"We give them another shipment. Stedman and Bremen sign off, chances are that we can slip it through and make the ring leader think we're looking elsewhere."

"So we're just going to release a shipment of Uzi's?"

"Exactly."

Beaman finally focused on Lee, "You really are a crazy son of a bitch, aren't you?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm not the one who has told me repeatedly that he worked in the Fabrication Shop. You once boasted that you could make identification for Santa Claus and that it would fool Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. So here's your chance to prove it."

"We're going way beyond Rudolph here," he replied with a humorless snort.

"Yeah, now you have to fool Santa's elves too," Lee challenged. "Are you up to it?"

With a sigh, Beaman leaned back in the chair and rubbed his neck. He closed his eyes and for a moment or two, Lee thought that he had lost this round. Lee was surprised when Beaman suddenly opened and his eyes and smiled.

"I'm going to need stuff."

Lee's eyebrows went up, "Stuff we got plenty of."

"And privacy, away from Smyth's prying eyes."

With a narrowing of his eyes, Lee thought about Beaman's statement. He sighed. "You know he has me watching you like a hawk?"

"Yeah."

"And you're not upset about it?"

"He has his reasons, my wife being paramount among them."

The phone rang and Lee lifted an eyebrow. "Speaking of your wife…"

Beaman grabbed the phone. "Beaman. Hey Franny, how are you? Yeah? Me too…"


	6. Chapter 6

"I found a warehouse in the Baltimore area, looks perfect on paper for our needs. I think we can get the supplies we need delivered there in 48 hours. How's _your_ paperworkcoming along?" Lee watched as Beaman rubbed his eyes. He hadn't moved from his computers, turning between the two of them as he worked to cover their visit to Washington Industrial.

"I've sent recommendations that the GAO stop the investigation. I've listed Stedman and Bremen as career accountants; each with outstanding service records.

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?" Lee laughed.

Beaman looked over the top of the monitor, his eyes narrowed with devilry, "Well, Stedman was once censored for allegations of inappropriate behavior but other than that…" he shrugged and went back to the computer as Lee laughed.

"Hell, what did you do, just drop in my file?"

"I thought about it." Kicking back in the chair, his feet landed on the desk with a thud. "I put tags on all of this in case anyone shows any interest. Plenty of investigators have visited Washington Industrial to check their paperwork since they began losing Uzi's; I'm hoping that we looked like two more following up on the thefts. There's now a request from the Defense Department for Stedman and Bremen to have gone over- so we should be covered. At least nothing points back to the Agency, Stetson and Beaman."

"Good," Lee replied as he sat on the edge of Beaman's desk. "Do you think we can pull this off, just the two of us? We just blew the size of this operation into orbit going this route."

"I know, but can you honestly think of any other way to do this? You said yourself we need a cage and we need bait. These guys aren't going to bite for anything less than a windfall. For that we need all of this. It has to be a real sweet pot."

"Yeah, you're right. When do we put this into action?"

"Tomorrow or maybe the next day if this all gels. Are you sure we can get delivery by Thursday?"

Lee nodded. "Are you sure you can't be traced?"

Letting the chair hit the floor, Beaman looked over his programs one last time. "You can always be traced, but anyone trying to trace me will need weeks just to break the sequencing code."

"How'd you put that together in one afternoon?"

"I didn't. I've been working on this program for years in one form or another. You might call it my retirement fund; I had planned to consult this out as a top flight security option when I left the Agency."

"Well, I guess you'll find out just how good a product it'll be."

"Yeah, I guess. I need to get into the Fabrication Shop again. I need to make credit cards, driver's licenses, checks, bank notes and all that fun stuff. I've set up bank accounts for us."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"Because we're gonna have to pay real people real money, Lee. Think we have it bad now? Try having the dock workers make a run on you."

"Good point. How long do you need in Fabrication?"

"Half hour tops, I have it all written up in here," he tapped his laptop. "I just need the paper and plastic to run it on. Smyth is watching us so we need a diversion. I'm going to activate the fire system; we should be able to get everyone out of Fabrication in record time. Unless you'd rather go and blow something up?"

Lee laughed. "You don't know how many times I've wished someone would say that to me!"

Beaman nodded, waves of exhaustion hitting him. "I've got the cameras set to go offline when you give me the word."

"The protocols will go into effect as soon as the alarms go off, be ready for them. Are you okay?" Lee could see the fatigue in Beaman's face; they both would need this night to get ready for what was to come. "If we want to end this once and for all, we need to do this."

"I know that. To be honest, pulling this on Billy and Smyth doesn't really thrill me."

Lee pushed back his chair and stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Yeah, I understand." Both men were silent for a few moments, each running through the operation they were about to play. "You know Beaman, I can't think of another agent I'd rather do this with," Lee held out his hand, grinning as Beaman shook it.

"Thanks, same here. Are we ready?"

Lee headed to the door; stopped and tossed the pencil he had been tapping the desk with all afternoon. It bounced on his desk and rolled to a stop by the picture of Amanda. "Give me 5 minutes to get to the bullpen then make a call so you're on the grid. We need to be visible when this goes off for cover. I'll get Amanda out of the building so she's not asking questions and you get the hell out of here as fast as you can."

Beaman nodded as he worked the final code strings on his computer, "You'll have your time," he pushed a few buttons on the computer and grinned. "You'll be off the monitors in 5, get moving."

The Q Bureau door slammed behind Stetson as he headed out. Efraim sat and watched his monitor to make sure that everything on his end went smoothly. Watching the countdown clock on his computer screen, he reached for the phone, lifted the receiver and dialed. "Hey Leatherneck, I need your help with something. You got some time for me? Thanks…" he reached over and pushed the enter button and leaned back in his chair.

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Beaman waited in his car by the warehouse he and Lee had chosen for their sting. The fire alarms had caused the Agency to shift into defensive mode; it certainly had afforded him all the time he had needed in the Fabrication Shop.

When he'd finished, he had calmly wandered back to the Q Bureau and reviewed the security feeds, absent Scarecrow and his own movements. Once it had been uploaded and reset, he went in search of a crowd to be seen with and leave. He had found Lee in the bullpen directing the response action. Billy had ordered Lee to escort Beaman to his car and see him off the site. Lee had definitely enjoyed ordering him out of the building and following him to the parking garage. With a warning to put it into overdrive, Efraim had driven out knowing that Lee wouldn't be far behind him.

He watched the action on the docks, pleased to see the area busy and fully functioning. He had always hated the empty warehouses and buildings that were universally chosen to conduct the seamier side of business. In his mind, if you want to hide something illegal, you hid it in the middle of legitimate businesses. And if you were dangling a carrot, you had to make the mark work for it.

The pager he had put on the front seat buzzed. Lifting it, he saw the pre-arranged code from Lee. Keeping an eye on the rear view mirror, he saw Lee's Vette as it pulled into the parking area. He swung open the door and climbed out of his Jeep Cherokee.

Lee parked by Beaman and got out of the Vette. He nodded at Beaman and waited. Dave Geiger climbed out of the passenger seat and waved.

"What the hell are you doing here? Stetson?"

"I found him monitoring the security feeds. He told me I was studying my watch a bit too close for comfort."

"Shit!"

"Those were my thoughts exactly. I did think of shooting him, but decided not to go that route."

Geiger raised his eyebrows. "Thanks. Now, what the hell are you two up to? And someone had better explain fast. Right now, the list of charges has both of you put away well into the next millennium!"

Beaman looked at Lee who shrugged. Beaman mentally ran through every thing he knew about Dave Geiger and feeling guilty for hesitating.

"Let me help you out Beaman…" Geiger began.

"Shut up Dave and let me tell you about this. Son of a bitch-you should have just shot him!"

"I really gave it serious thought. Can you trust him?"

Geiger slammed his hand on the hood of the Vette causing the other men to wince. "Let me remind the two of you who you're dealing with here!"

"This is about finding the people who took Francine."

"And the missing Uzi's."

Geiger shook his head, "You have the two Moldavians in custody."

Sighing, Beaman leaned against his Jeep for support. "Do you honestly think those two Bozo's are the brains behind all of this? We already know that the shipper Washington Industrial is involved; we need to find their connection within the system. Come on Dave, think about it."

"You're serious?" his gaze moved from one man to the other. "Damn. Why not take this to Billy or Smyth? You know they both want this taken care of because of what happened with Francine."

Lee raised a hand to interject into the conversation, "Beaman, this can work to our benefit."

"Oh, now I can stay alive if I work with you? Thanks for the option." Geiger was mad and he didn't care who knew he was pissed off. "Why wasn't I let in on this scheme of yours? No, this has all the hallmarks of the two of you flying by the seat of your pants and coloring outside of the lines."

"Why didn't you turn us in when you were monitoring the security feeds?" This was the key and Beaman knew it would answer their main question; could they trust Dave Geiger with the lives of their families.

"Why didn't you turn him in when you decoded the strings when Smyth had the D1 out against him during the Stemwinder fiasco?"

"You decoded the strings? Why wasn't I ever told about this?" Lee wanted to know.

"Because I knew Lee, he hadn't sold out his country."

"Yeah? And I know the two of you. And you sure as hell should know me."

Lee looked at Beaman and saw the indecision. Beaman's sudden grin caught him off guard.

"You're right, Dave-I'm sorry but I had to be sure," Beaman slapped his friend on the shoulder and started to walk to the warehouse. "Are the two of you gonna stand there all day? We have work to do. Why the hell were you monitoring the feeds? Who'd you piss off today?"

Lee and Geiger shared a look and followed in Beaman's wake. Dave shook his head, "Smyth," he nodded at the frowns Lee and Efraim gave the other. "The two of you are gonna be the death of me, I swear."

Lee laughed, "Not if I can help it Dave, not if I can help it."

"Don't take this personally Lee, but I'm not reassured."

With a glance around the empty warehouse, Lee stopped at the door. What the hell had he gotten himself into, he wondered? He shook his head and walked over to Beaman and Geiger. If Geiger had doubts 30 minutes into this plan, wait until he'd been there for a day!

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Lee poured over the printouts from Beaman's latest forage through Washington Industrial's computer system. His finger ran down the pages looking for something to jump out.

He almost missed it when something finally did jump out at him.

Reading the section again just to be sure he had read what he thought he had, he grabbed the pencil and circled the segment. "Beaman, come here for a minute."

"I'm in the middle of something."

"Why would Cafferty submit expenses for parking at the NSA?"

Beaman stood and leaned over the screen of his computer. "You're kidding me? Tell me you're not kidding me?" He dropped back into his seat, the sound of his fingers hitting the computer keys. "Got it!" Turning to his laptop, he made a few entries and jumped up to grab the paper as it exited the printer.

Lee came to read the report over Beaman's shoulder. "So he wasn't seeing the director himself—can you get in and find out who he was seeing?"

Leaning back in the chair, Beaman rubbed his eyes as he thought about Lee's question. "It's not going to be easy."

"I didn't ask you if it was going to be easy, I asked you if you could do it."

"Dammit Lee, I need to think about this for a moment. This isn't going to be a walk in the park; NSA security is as good as it comes."

"Good thing you're the best there is then, isn't it?" Lee slapped him on the shoulder and sat on the edge of the desk. They were running out of time and this was the first real connection they'd found.

"You do understand how I get in these systems, don't you? I exploit weaknesses inherit in the programming. The number one major weakness in computer security systems isn't the programming; it's the people monitoring them. Let me tell you about the computer security at the NSA, its job one. And that's not an advertising slogan to them, they live it."

"You can't get in?"

"Yeah, I can get in, but I don't want to be marked for life! I'm one person; they have 18,000 parking spaces over there and who knows how many of those people are watching their computer systems, so the odds are stacked against me at the outset. I have to think about this," he grabbed a pencil, kicked the chair back and put his feet on the desk and started bouncing the pencil on his leg.

Drawing a deep breath, Lee dropped the printouts and stood. He watched Beaman for a moment and shook his head; he knew to let the man think when it got to this point in a problem. "I'm going to get some coffee, want some?" When he didn't get a response he shook his head and left the Q Bureau.

Lee headed toward the elevators for the trip down to the Agency commissary. He jabbed his finger into the call button and waited. The doors opened and Lee stepped in and reached to push the appropriate floor button.

"Hold that button Scarecrow. I was just taking a stroll to chat with you and the Boy Scout."

Lee's head jerked up as he turned to face a smirking Dr. Smyth. He sighed and pressed the hold button. "What can I do for you, Dr. Smyth?"

"How's your investigation progressing?"

"Oh you know; same old same old." Lee crossed his arms over his chest, he wasn't about to give anything away.

"Yes, I suspected as much," Smyth matched Stetson's pose, even leaning on the elevator wall. "Stetson, we've never gone out of our way to hide our thoughts about the other, especially after Stemwinder. Regardless of your opinion, I am concerned about the outcome of this game that you and Beaman are playing. Do keep in mind I will offer assistance where I can."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lee replied, his tone and look skeptical. He pushed the button for the Q Bureau and leaned back up against the wall.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Smyth stepped to the opening and turned. "Thanks for the chat Scarecrow. I'm sure our paths will…cross…again."

"I'm sure they will. Oh and knock on the Bureau door and step back, Beaman's a bit strung out these days."

Smyth raised an eyebrow and tossed his patented shark's grin, turning away as the doors closed. Lee gave an involuntary shudder, he always hated running into Smyth. But he kept in mind what Beaman had told him, '_Smyth__ is the spy master'_. He'd do well to remember the warning.

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Lee returned to the Q Bureau, coffee in hand. He found Beaman in the same position he had left him in; feet up and pencil eraser tapping away. He put the coffee on Beaman's desk and went to sit down. If he had learned anything over the past couple of years working with Beaman, it was to wait until he was ready to talk. Otherwise the routine had to start again.

"Thanks for the coffee."

Lee raised his own cup in salute. "You're welcome."

Beaman sighed and dropped his feet, the chair legs hitting the floor and echoing in the room. "Smyth stopped by."

"Yeah, I know. I had a private audience in the elevator."

Chuckling, Efraim lifted the coffee and took a sip. "He's fishing. But he did let it drop that Washington Industrial had been cleared of wrong doing. It seems as though a couple of yahoo's at the GAO cleared them."

"Really-a couple of yahoo's? Nice. So it's coming together as we thought it would."

"Yeah, it looks that way."

Lee cleared his throat. "And what about our current problem?"

"It took you long enough to get around to that, Stetson," Beaman snorted at the look on Lee's face. "I'm still one person; they have more people than I'd care to shake a memory card at, so it seems to me that we need to even up the sides a bit."

"What are you thinking? There's no way you're thinking I'm going to use a computer to help you hack into the NSA?"

"I have a far higher opinion of your skills than you give yourself credit for Scarecrow, but no, I need the help of some '_experts_' in this field."

Lee pondered that for a few moments; who in the world would Beaman consider '_experts_'? "Hackers?"

"Yeah, hackers. You know my background with computers; you know I worked some cases when I was in the Navy and even some here with the Agency, right? Well, one of the ways I stay current with what the hacking world is doing is to keep my fingers in the pool, understand?"

"Are you telling me you hack?"

"You do seem a bit surprised. You shouldn't be, but yes, I hack. It's an ongoing project; I've infiltrated several of the 'important' hacking circles. I keep current and I have been able to build dossiers on the up and coming crop of hackers. Smyth knows about it, Billy knows it and now you know. What I propose is I contact my online 'friends' and offer a challenge."

"Breaking into the NSA computers; that's some challenge. Explain why you think this is a good idea and why you think it won't compromise our security."

"Because I'm the only one who will be able to get in and stay hidden within the system. The others will be shut down and when that happens, they'll break off and go into hiding. And while they are knocking on the security doors and creating all sorts of virtual chaos, I'll slip in and find what I'm looking for."

"Why won't they shut you down?"

Beaman stared at Lee for what seemed to Lee minutes. The look on the agent's face certainly didn't give him any comfort either. He was about to re-ask his question when Beaman suddenly laughed.

"I'm damn good. And I'm going to use one of their computers."

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Lee and Beaman took a stroll through the bullpen two days after their discovery of the connection between Washington Industrial and the National Security Agency. Desks were empty and with covert looks at one another, the two men headed to the conference room to see what the discussion of the day was. They had their suspicions, were it in fact counting on a major flap going down regarding repeated hits against government computer security.

Pushing open the door, Lee let Beaman into the room and he followed. Both men leaned against the wall and listened. Billy gave a nod as they walked in, finished his report and turned to his agents.

"Glad to see the two of you. Beaman, this is right up your alley; it seems that the NSA security web is under assault. They seem to think its coming from the Middle East. Can you take a look?"

"Normally I'd be happy to Billy, but the NSA computer system is proprietary. I can't get in there," he held his breath hoping that the powers that be were in enough of an uproar that they'd grant the Agency entry to their system.

Billy nodded, he understood the boundaries. "Let me talk to Smyth, maybe he can free up access for you. It just makes no sense that they're screaming to me to fix this and we don't have ready access. Dismissed people, Beaman, come with me. Stetson you might as well follow along." Billy hurried out of the conference room, his two agents' right behind him.

Upon reaching Dr. Smyth's office he stopped before entering. "Both of you behave yourselves in there. Let's get in and get out without getting tangled in a helping of verbal fruit salad. Understood?"

Both men nodded and at Billy's grunted 'good', they entered Smyth's office.

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Efraim worked quickly, he knew he had limited time for his own forage inside the NSA computer system. He shook his head; Smyth had given him a good, hard look before lifting his telephone and offering help from one of the Agency's computer experts.

"Find anything?" Lee asked and not for the first time.

"Not yet, but I'm getting closer. On the other hand, these guys are hitting the system pretty hard and I'm impressed."

Parking himself on the edge of the desk, Lee folded his arms over his chest. "Well consider this a twofer, a look inside NSA security and the ability to test the current batch of hackers. I always did like getting more bang for my buck."

"Yep…" Beaman was no longer paying attention to Lee; he was working the computer quickly, screens flashed across the monitor displaying strings of code. "Remember when I told you that Washington Industrial's security was pretty good?"

"Yeah, you thought it was familiar."

"It's an older version of security created by the NSA."

"Really--I don't like the way this is stacking up. Who's the contact?

Beaman shrugged and continued working. Lee went back to his own desk to look over the mountain of printouts that Beaman insisted could be important. "Beaman, there's one thing I don't understand; NSA is military."

"Its structure and command are military. There are civilians working there. And we both know there are people in the military willing to compromise the security of the United States. Not many, but we do know they exist. Usually that personality type is discovered and they're drummed out, but sometimes these people are really smart and they are able to bypass the military screenings."

"Yeah, but it rankles."

Looking up from his computer screens, Beaman sighed. "I understand your feeling, but we follow the evidence where it leads us."

"I don't have to like it Beaman, that's the only point I'm making."

"Trust me, I don't like it either."

Both men went back to work. Neither man was happy about the prospects if their sighs were any indication.

The hunt for information continued into the early evening. Lee had ordered hamburgers for both himself and Beaman, both complaining that their wives never allowed them the indulgence.

Halfway through his hamburger, Beaman jumped up from his chair, leaned over and stared at his computer screen. "Shit!"

"Jeez Beaman, I think they taste pretty good," Lee replied, wanting to finish his dinner in peace.

"No! I've found something, and you aren't going to like this at all," he sat down and dug through the mess on his desk until he found a disk and put it in the computer to copy data. "I'm making a copy of this. That program I told you about earlier, remember?"

"Yeah, you want me to activate it?" Lee knew they were to about to kick into high gear.

Beaman held up his hand and went back to making copies. When he stopped, he looked over at Lee and nodded. "Do it now."

With his finger above the enter key, he looked one last time at Beaman. "Are you sure?"

"We discussed this; I need you to do this now Lee. Then all we have to do is sit back and watch the fallout. And when we find the person or persons reacting to all of this we'll have our kingpin."

"Are you sure?"

Beaman jumped up from his chair and stalked over to Lee's desk, leaned over and punched the enter button on his computer. "Yes, I'm sure dammit! I've got my backside hanging out here and I need that cover!"

"How the hell does your wife put up with you?"

"Leave my wife out of this, I'm warning you."

The cold deadliness of Beaman's tone let Lee know he had stepped over a line with the man. He raked his hands through his hair, sighing. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, you know that. You know how I feel about Francine, but I'm telling you, she's a damn saint."

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Beaman went back to his computers and sat down. He rubbed his eyes then folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, she is a saint; she's the best damn thing that ever happened to me."

Lee understood; he felt the exact same way about Amanda. "What did you find?" When Efraim pointed to the printer, Lee rolled his eyes; he should have known. Picking up the paper he leaned back and began to read what was contained in the printout. He didn't need a roadmap to find what had set Beaman off. "Damn Beaman, this isn't good."

"I told you that you wouldn't like it."

"You sure as hell weren't kidding me. I guess all we need to do now is wait." Lee thought about all the outcomes. "When do we tell Smyth?"

Beaman looked at Stetson, his stare hard and direct. "We tell him when it's over."

"Look, he's going to want know that the Deputy Director of the NSA requested your service file a week before Francine was kidnapped."

"And he'll sit and do nothing until we hand all of it to him on a silver platter."

"Think he'll wait that long? If Smyth knew they had requested updates on your file…waiting while this is going on doesn't sound like Smyth to me."

"That's why we haven't told him what we're doing; he wouldn't be able to sit by. We don't tell him."

Leaning back in his chair, Lee pulled the printouts onto his lap and began to read them again. His mind re-ran the conversation with Beaman and he came to the conclusion that he agreed with the other man: Smyth wouldn't be able to sit on this.

The next few days would tell.


	7. Chapter 7

Silence reigned inside the Vette as Lee steered it toward Georgetown and the Agency. He could feel Amanda's gaze as she studied his profile. He told her he was sick and tired of the games and wanted out. And if Beaman's attitude was any indicator he told her, he felt exactly the same way.

Lee wasn't looking forward to what the day held for him.

Amanda kept up a steady stream of chatter as they walked through the halls of the Agency. He wasn't sure if he replied though the few swats on the arm he received let him know he had mumbled something inappropriate.

The only thing that cheered him was the wary glances his fellow agents cast his way. He still liked that notoriety!

The MP's opened the door for Amanda while Lee sauntered in behind her. Beaman was leaning over a computer terminal; his glance as they walked in was hostile. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at Lee.

Lee stopped and raised his eyebrow. He noted with a sigh when Beaman taped his watch. "Yeah, I know I'm late Beaman, it's not like you're finding us anything to work with."

"I don't see you helping with this investigation. But then that's your trademark, sit back and let someone else do the work and swoop in at the last minute for the grand finale."

No one in the bullpen dared to breath. Heads bounced back and forth as the insults and accusations raced between the two men.

"Are you trying to tell me I'm not contributing to this case?"

"No, I'm not trying," Beaman snarled back at Lee, "That's exactly what I'm telling you. The only thing you contributed is the loss of several shipments of Uzi's and my wife's kidnapping!"

Lee reached for Beaman, who threw a chair to get to Lee. Amanda clutched Lee's arm as Geiger ran into the bullpen to get hold of Beaman. Chaos was rampant as people were shouting and hurrying out of the way of the two enraged agents.

The door to Billy's office was thrown open. "Enough! The two of you are…"

"Suspended!" Amanda interjected. "Lee Stetson, how could you? No, I don't want any of your excuses. And you Beaman, just you wait until I talk with Francine. Both of you, out of here now!" she yelled at the two angry men before her. Amanda's face was flushed as she turned on her heel and hurried from the bullpen before anyone could see the tears that threatened to spill.

"You heard Amanda. The two of you are suspended. Indefinitely. Out of here. NOW!" Billy returned to his office closing his door quietly.

Lee and Efraim glared at one another and each turned to leave. Geiger followed a few steps behind, watching as one turned toward the Georgetown elevator and the other in the opposite direction. He sighed and turned to follow Beaman down the hall when Dr. Smyth called out to him.

"I hear the children were kicking sand at each other on the playground, Geiger."

"That so, Dr. Smyth?"

"Yes, that's so. I want you to follow the Boy Scout, keep an eye on him and report back to me."

"What makes you think I'll be able to get anything from him or that I'd tell you?"

Dr. Smyth's eyebrows rose at the agent's remark. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised; Geiger was cut from the same cloth as Stetson and Beaman. "Because I'm telling you to--he's walking a tight rope right now and I want him to have a net."

"I'll think about it--if I can find him," he tossed over his shoulder as he hurried after Beaman.

With a sigh, Smyth walked to the bullpen and observed the turmoil left in Scarecrow and Boy Scout's passage. No one was concerned with his presence as he made his way to Billy's office. The chief of counter-intelligence was seated at his desk drinking antacid from the bottle.

Smyth shoved his hands into his pockets and closed Billy's door with his foot. Leaning against it, he waited until the other man twisted the cap closed and set the bottle down. "Tell me, when did we become old, William?"

Shaking his head, Billy rubbed his eyes before answering. "I have no idea. But I do feel old, damn old. Do you have any idea what happened?"

"No. And worse is I have no clue as to whether they are making a run with this or if this is an actual implosion caused by their enforced partnership," Pulling one of the chairs out, Smyth sat down across from Billy. "Is there any scuttlebutt? At Billy's raised eyebrow, Smyth sighed, "Suggestions?"

"I have none to give you."

"I ordered Geiger to find Beaman and stick to him and to report back to me directly."

Billy smiled, amused that Smyth thought Dave Geiger would become an informant. "What makes you think Geiger will do that? They are, above all else, friends."

"That is what I'm counting on, William. Have you spoken with Amanda?"

"No," he shook his head. "She left before Stetson and Beaman, she was quite upset."

"Have her back track their past few days, perhaps there is something we can glean from anything left behind.

Billy laughed at that, "We're talking about Lee Stetson and Efraim Beaman; there will be no trail for us to pick up. We do call them spooks for a reason; they each are walking in the same footprints and there is no tracking them."

"Perhaps you're right. And Mrs. Beaman, has she been notified?" At Billy's horrified look, Smyth smiled. "I'll make a trip over myself."

"You're a braver man than me. Though…should I go with you?"

Smyth pondered the angles and possibilities and with a shake of his head made his decision. "No William, I understand your close relationship with Mrs. Beaman, but in this instance I think it best if I make this contact alone. She will not want you to think badly of Boy Scout, your approval means too much to her. But she may say something that gives us a clue if I push her a bit."

"Austin…"

"I will not upset her, William. Beaman once told me that his wife was his best asset; let us just see if he has kept her in the loop."

"Where do you think this all leads? This is certainly a dangerous game they are playing for a few criminals."

"If my suspicions are correct, the answer lays within the administration. Beaman was quite clear with his warnings to me, 'by the book'. Where they are looking would require that I inform the subject of their investigation. That is why there is no trail, no evidence of what they have done. As it is, I have nothing to tell anyone."

"I'll kill them myself if they are running operations of this scope without our help."

"They are protecting those they care about; you certainly understand that, William. But let us aid them as we may. Increase security for their families. Step on any gossip that may ensue from their spectacle this morning; anything that might tip off any interested parties that they are close. We will engineer 'reports' from them until this is over. Let us assist with the cover; after all that is what they have 'asked' us to do."

"Yes. And then when they are done, I'll consider reinstating them."

Smyth laughed. Stetson and Beaman would probably enjoy the time off. "When this is over, amuse yourself at their expense until you are satisfied. They will, however, not regret their actions. The fact that they have done what they have tells us that. But dangle their feet over the flames if it makes you feel better, they'll not mind."

"That's why this job is no longer fun."

Arising from the seat, Smyth walked to the door, "On that we are in complete agreement, William."

Closing the door behind him, Smyth was heartened to see the bullpen members quickly scuttle from his path. That cheered him immeasurably. The task ahead of him did not. But Stetson and Beaman had asked for and would receive his help. And he would not let his agents down.

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Lee pulled onto the docks to see Beaman and Geiger climbing from their vehicles. They had planned and agreed to meet after slipping any tails, if there were any. There hadn't been any.

With the car parked, he climbed from the Vette and nodded at the men before him. "Let's get this moving so we can go home and face the music."

"Smyth was at my house when I drove by." Efraim announced, watching the eye rolls of his partners in this operation. "Amanda was there, as was an increased security presence—thanks to Dr. Smyth."

"As you said he would do," Geiger added.

"It's nice to know that someone can predict what Smyth will do," Lee said. He walked to the door of the warehouse and pushed it open. Boxes were being stacked by dock workers in forklifts all directed by a large, hard-hat wearing foreman shouting directions. "Things are coming together quickly here," he said sounding dubious, anxious.

Beaman nodded; he understood where Lee was coming from. "These guys are good; they'll have this place stocked in no time flat. Then we can move forward."

Lee and Geiger nodded as they watched the men they had hired stock the warehouse. Beaman walked over to the foreman and was discussing progress. He shook the foreman's hand and walked back to his fellow agents.

"Okay, he thinks," with a nod at the foreman, "they can finish up by tomorrow afternoon. There don't seem to be any problems and the foreman said everyone is glad to be helping out the military. So, I don't expect any problems."

"We should go over the next phase so we're all on the same sheet of music and our timing is good."

Beaman nodded at Geiger's suggestion.

"Good idea," Lee agreed. The three men climbed the stairs to the office they had set up that oversaw the entire warehouse floor. It contained state of the art satellite access, computers and secure communications.

"I'm thinking that if Smyth is with Francine and Amanda, they're going to know that you're up to something." Geiger added.

"They know what we're doing, sort of. They just don't know exactly who what where and when. And they already know why."

"Are we going to tell them how close we are?"

Beaman sighed, "I'm not saying a word to Franny—she'll kill me," he shook his head at Lee and Geiger. "No, we continue as we have unless we want to find one or the other, or God help us, both of them trailing behind us."

"He has a point, Amanda still doesn't stay put. Dave, you know what you need to do?"

"Yeah, Smyth isn't going to like the fact that I'm feeding him misinformation."

Lee grimaced, he knew Smyth would be in an uproar when he found out they had led him in the wrong direction.

"Dave, you once told me you'd take the fall for me if I got caught hacking while I was in uniform. Consider the favor about to be returned."

"Beaman, buddy…"

"Let's go over this now, I just want it all to end."

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

It actually took three more days before everything came together.

Each day, the three men met at the warehouse in the early morning hours. The first morning after their bullpen blowup, Lee and Beaman related their wives reaction to their suspensions: silence.

"I tell you, it's really messing with my head, but Francine hasn't said a word. Well, just that she understood."

"That's what Amanda said, she understands."

Geiger shrugged, "So what's the problem? It's nice to have the home front on our side, right?"

Both Lee and Efraim looked at Geiger as if he'd grown another head. "You're kidding me? Francine understands? Give me a break!"

"Yeah, that's not the Francine I know. Amanda just sighs. Let me tell you, it's making me really nervous."

Geiger rolled his eyes and grabbed the first batch of printouts. His two friends had just convinced him to remain single.

The remainder of the first day was spent laying out the trap in the warehouse. Lee checked the bait, the real Uzi's and rocket launchers they had packed in several of the crates located in the center of the room. Each crate was fitted with a tracking device that they hoped would lead them to the other Uzi's, as well as a phosphorescent dye that would mark anyone who came into contact with the crates and their contents. Geiger had a good laugh when they told him that the other crates were actually filled with bathroom tissue that had been heading overseas to State Department postings before Lee and Beaman intercepted the shipment.

The cameras were set, the night vision cameras had been mounted with additional infrared lighting components. No one wanted a problem with legal because someone's face was shadowed. The warehouse was wired for sound and the unit set to a motion detector; they were leaving nothing to chance. All possible routes had been covered and driven, giving them familiarity with the area and the surface roads their thieves might employ.

Beaman's computer tags showed activity at Washington Industrial similar to the patterns prior to the thefts of the Uzi's. Beaman traced the lines to several security contractors. Geiger set off to check them out while Lee started disseminating the misinformation they'd need to pull off their operation.

The second day the three men arrived before the sun rose. Beaman hit his computer and the day got off to a quick start when activity on the lines tagged at the NSA began sending back information.

"Lee, check this out," Efraim called out to Lee who came to look over his shoulder.

"Damn, I was really hoping it wouldn't lead there. Whose terminal is that coming from?"

"Deputy NSA."

"That's not right, it can't be. The DNSA is in Brussels. Amanda cleared the security and travel detail two months ago."

Beaman shrugged. "All I know is this is where it's coming from. Maybe it's his assistant or someone else, but that," pointing at the information scrolling across the monitor, "is what is being sent and received from that computer. And whoever is at the computer is the person I'm looking for."

"The person _we're_ looking for." Lee reminded him.

"Yeah."

Lee hoped Beaman remembered this wasn't a one man show, but he didn't have the time or the inclination to argue with the man. "Who's on the other end?"

Fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, screens flashed and scrolled across the monitor. Beaman leaned closer and moved the mouse to highlight an area and leaned back as names began to flash on the screen. "I'm checking the access cards of anyone who has the authorization to enter that office and we should get a match on who is in there."

"Good idea," Both men watched the screen as names entered and deleted. "It's the DNSA, Lee," Beaman shook his head, "We have to see if the man actually caught the flight."

Lee walked over and turned on the television they had hooked to satellite feeds streaming in from around the globe. The NATO conference tuned in as Lee worked the controls and both men watched as the DNSA entered with several of the American delegates.

"Damn!" Was the expletive of choice that both used to describe the situation.

"Someone is using a forged card. Seems that Santa, Rudolf and the elves are being fooled by a few people this year," Lee remarked as he grabbed the phone and punched the numbers to make some inquiries.

Beaman rolled his eyes, though Lee's comment wasn't lost on him. He decided to go another route to find what he needed and began to access the closed circuit feed from the National Security Agency. Narrowing the target area he was able to find the camera that watched the door of the DNSA. With a snap of his fingers at Lee, Efraim leaned back in his chair and watched the quadrangle of images being sent.

Lee stood up, phone in hand and perched on the edge of his desk watching the screens while trying to pay attention to the conversation on the other end of the phone.

The door to the DNSA's office opened slowly. "Let me get back to you," Lee told the person on the other end of the phone. Setting the receiver down, he leaned forward to get a better look at whoever came out of the room.

"Damn! Now that's a face I've seen before!" Beaman crowed as he turned to the computer and started to work.

Lee clapped Beaman on the shoulder and lifted the telephone and called Geiger; they had plans to make and fast.

**SMKSMKSMKSMK**

Lee and Beaman moved through the darkened halls of the DuPont Circle office building with ease. Both wore tactical jumpsuits, their chests covered by armored vests, their faces hidden behind balaclava masks and tactical goggles. Their guns were in their gloved hands, raised and at the ready. Communication between the two was unnecessary; they knew where they were going and who they were looking for. They had planned every movement of this operation and had committed the office terrain to memory so that their actions were second nature; their movements were quick but cautious, born of years of experience.

Coming to their destination, they stopped at the doors that led to an office. With a nod, one opened the door and moved in, the other following in a covering action. The man seated at the desk jumped to his feet. Before he could utter a warning, one of the men shot him; there was no retort from the weapon as it fired. The man looked down at his shoulder where he found a dart imbedded. Shock registered across his features as he looked at the two men; his mouth open to say something. He blinked, staggered and fell into his chair unconscious; the warning he would have issued silenced by the men's quick action. Beaman quickly cuffed the man, pulling the barb from the shoulder and placing it in a pouch at his waist.

They proceeded to the double set of wooden doors. Without hesitation they threw them open, weapons at the ready as they entered the room.

Their quarry stood at a bank of floor to ceiling windows behind the desk. The fluorescent lights allowed their reflections to show in the glass though their target was seemingly oblivious to their presence.

Lee carefully approached the desk and out of his peripheral vision he saw Efraim mirror his position on the other side of the mahogany expanse. Lee nodded to the agent; this was his game to finish.

"Federal agents! Cassandra Cafferty Mullins, raise your hands slowly and keep them where we can see them. You are under arrest for violating United States Federal laws concerning weapons dealing, theft of United States Government property, interstate transportation of said property, murder, conspiracy to commit murder and for the kidnapping of Francine Desmond Beaman."

The woman didn't react to the charges leveled at her by the men. She continued to stare out the window onto the Washington DC street scene below her. The Special Assistant to the Deputy National Security Advisor suddenly swung, raising the modified Uzi she held loosely in her hand, the bullets striking the plate glass windows as she turned. The men moved as Cassandra Mullins spun; the ensuing crack of shattering glass and the reverberation of gunfire breaking the stillness of the night.

"Put your weapon down, Mullins," Lee shouted as he cast a quick glance to check on Beaman as shards of glass rained down on them. "There's no place for you to go, no place to hide. We have all the evidence we need; your ex husband is willing to talk for a deal to put you away."

Cassandra looked at the agents before her and suddenly turned to the gaping hole in the windows. Both men cautiously edged around the desk in an effort to bring her back into the safety of the office and away from the yawning abyss. "Do you know I tried to have the two of you fired, drummed out of the service, disgraced, but Smyth protected you both. All this time I was trying to remove you and you were tracking me. I never knew, I never knew," she laughed, the sound eerie as it echoed in the room and spilled into the emptiness outside the window. "You are nothing but pawns on a chess board to me and yet you have not done what I expected. What benefit is it to have all this power, to be able to know the intimate details of the lives of mere citizens on a whim if I so choose and not be able to know that two intelligence operatives in my government are building a case against me?"

She dropped the gun, her shoulders sagging as if in defeat. Both men leapt to grab the woman as she raised her arms to embrace the darkness outside the window. Lee felt the fabric of Beaman's tactical uniform rip at his fingernails as Efraim's weight and momentum pulled him through the gaping windows and toward the concrete below.

At the last, he caught the holster strap and wrenched with all his strength, pulling Efraim back from the chasm; both landing on the desk.

"Son of a bitch, son of a _bitch_!"

Neither man would ever know which of them said the words.


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Efraim quietly entered the townhouse. His body ached, he was beyond tired and he knew he couldn't pass a sobriety test let alone climb the stairs to his bedroom. But climb those stairs he would; he was going to sleep with his wife if it killed him. And if the climb didn't do him in his wife just might, he mused with gallows humor. He wasn't even sure how he had gotten home.

He was mid way in his ascent when he heard his son rustle and begin to fret. He climbed the remainder of the steps two at a time and went into the nursery.

In the soft glow of the night light he could see John's tiny, fisted hands waving in the air. "Hey there little man—what's the problem?" He reached into the crib and lifted his son into his arms and went to sit in the rocking chair by the window.

The baby quieted at his voice and proceeded to attempt the impossible by stuffing both fists into his mouth. Efraim chuckled, "I'll tell you John, both of them aren't going to fit in there, but if you're anything like me, you won't give up until you figure it out yourself."

"I'm glad you realize you've passed all of those stubborn traits on to our son, B." Francine said as she walked over to the men in her life and ran her fingers through her husband's hair. "A little late in the season for trick or treat, isn't it?"

Efraim cocked his head, his eyes questioning his wife's statement.

"The black ops uniform—where were you tonight?"

"It's over Franny. Can we leave it at that?"

"Oh B, you should know by now that I can't leave anything that concerns you alone," she looked at her husband closely and saw the exhaustion he tried to hide. On closer inspection, she saw the slashes in the fabric covering of his body armor. "Are you all right? You've been hurt?"

She fingered the holes and gave him a visual inspection.

"No honey, I'm fine. Some glass fell on me, that's all."

"Glass…what do you mean glass fell on you?" her voice rising. The baby started to cry and she backed up a step as Efraim stood to offer her the rocker so she could nurse the baby.

Efraim sat on the floor at her feet, his arms wrapped around his knees as he watched his wife and son. "It's really nothing Franny; I'm fine."

"Lee?"

He nodded, "He's fine. Both of us are fine," he sighed and rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes. His head was awash with the bourbon he'd downed. The plan had been for the bourbon to stop the night's events from flashing in his memory. It wasn't helping. It all replayed at the speed of light: arresting Cafferty, tranquilizing Mullin's assistant, the madness in Mullin's eyes, the shattering glass and the Special assistant to the Deputy National Security Administrator stepping into the void with a plunge 15 stories down and Lee pulling him back from that same fate. Landing on that glass had been the only thing that had made sense, the only tangible proof that he and Lee had actually been at the scene. That and the grueling interview they endured by Smyth. He had ended that by putting his badge and gun on Smyth's desk and walking out. He and Lee had gone and broken into Leatherneck's not so secret liquor locker, scoring bottles of Wild Turkey and Booker's. Lee had wanted the Wild Turkey, Efraim had pulled Lee's own gun on him for it.

He stared out the window while Francine rocked and fed John. He felt her gaze on him but he didn't know what to say or how to tell her what he had done. He knew she would figure it out; a story as big as this could not be swept under the bureaucratic blanket, but no one would ever know the truth of what had actually gone down.

Smyth had promised that Lee and his involvement would be sealed. Efraim shook his head when he remembered the director welcoming him and Lee to the big leagues with the sealing of their code names; their actions now a matter of national security and accessible only by presidential order. That had been the beginning of the interview. It ended with him leaving. How did he tell her?

The light touch of her fingertips had him jumping. He stood up and nodded at her silent warning to be quiet. Efraim looked one last time at his son sleeping in his crib; his tiny fist at his mouth, eyes closed as he sucked on his knuckles. He turned and followed as Francine gently tugged his sleeve.

Upon entering their bedroom, Francine started to unbuckle the bulletproof vest; shaking her head at the slashes that crisscrossed the fabric. He winced as she helped him pull it over his shoulder. His wife frowned at the bruising on his shoulder and ribs as she led him into the shower. She adjusted the water temperature and pushed her husband inside the enclosure.

Walking back into their bedroom, she picked up the clothes that Efraim had just discarded. With a sigh, she laid them across the hamper and came and sat in the chair. Her mind raced at the possibilities of what had gone on that night. Efraim had told her it was over. She knew enough to know that whoever had ordered her kidnapping was dead. She knew that she and John were safe; Efraim would never stop until he was sure they would not be threatened ever again.

Francine watched as Efraim walked over to the bed and sat down. She stood up and walked over to her husband and wrapped her arms gently around his shoulders. "Lie down, you need to sleep."

Efraim wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. "I need you, I need to feel you and touch you, it's the only way I'll know I'm alive. It's the only way I ever know I'm alive, when I feel you in my arms."

"Oh Efraim," she let him pull her down to the bed beside him. She leaned over him and kissed him, softly, gently. His hands slipped into her hair as he pulled her close and kissed her with a desire born of desperation. She met his need, understanding the desire to hold those you love close when you've looked death in the face and walked away.

"God, Franny I hate to admit it, I'm so damn tired," he confessed as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and sighing. "You smell so good, you smell like heaven…" Efraim kissed her hair and closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Francine lay in her husband's arms until she was sure he was sound asleep. As gently as she could, she slipped from his clasp, quickly giving him her pillow when he mumbled.

She quietly went downstairs into the kitchen. A nearly empty bottle of Wild Turkey lay haphazardly on its side atop the counter. With a sigh, she lifted the bottle and sniffed it. Giving a delicate shrug, she took a sip and exhaled. "Oh Efraim, what have you been up to?"

Setting the bottle down, she pull out one of the stools at the kitchen island and sat down, her chin resting in her hand as her eyes fell on the telephone lying in its cradle. With a determined set to her jaw, she reached over and lifted the telephone and dialed Dr. Smyth's direct number. She didn't even smile when he answered 'Hello Mrs. Beaman'.

"I need to know." She waited, her silence brooked no argument.

"Sit down Francine; it's been one hell of a night."

"I'm sitting and I've seen the toll tonight has taken on my husband."

"Let me see where this story starts," the director began.

"Try the beginning and don't you dare leave anything out," she threatened. And then she listened.

SMKSMKSMKSMK

Francine rubbed the back of her neck as she read the Post that morning. She had scanned all the papers for any mention of Efraim's name. The closest was the Times that identified _'an elite squadron of government agents'_; she had laughed at that. Efraim, Lee and Geiger a squadron, right! Though they had gotten the 'elite' part right, she did give them that.

More so they had gotten the convoluted lives of Cassandra Mullins and James Cafferty correct. Married, divorced, love, hate, lying and cheating; all of it coming together as the most common denominator in these affairs: revenge. Cafferty had cheated with Cassandra's sister and the sisterly bond had always been a bit thin. That was being played up by the press. Francine called it the sleaze factor.

As were Mullins current husband's connections and money that had Cassandra's star rising along side her affluent husband. His money had gotten her the appointment as the special assistant at the National Security Agency. And once there, Cassandra saw her chance to make her ex-husband pay and pay he did. She bankrupted his business and blackmailed him into the theft of the Uzi's.

It was Mullins position within the NSA that had given her Efraim's name and location and thus ultimately hers. Efraim had come too close to finding the connection with the Eastern European crime syndicates of the late Cassandra's current husband. Efraim had almost brought it all down around her the first time around. And to stop him, she had the Moldavian's kidnap her.

Cassandra must have thought she had won by damaging both Efraim and Lee's careers. She hadn't counted on Efraim taking another run at her. Francine knew that the woman should never have turned her back on Efraim Beaman and Lee Stetson. The error had ultimately cost her life.

James Cafferty was in custody and talking fast and furious. The administration would hang him out to dry and they would two-step around the fact that Cassandra and Bradley Mullins were considered close personal friends of the President and First Lady. Cafferty was giving names, dates, accounts and literally the locations of the bodies that had fallen along the way. Bradley Mullins had an army of attorneys doing the talking for him; most of them were busy chatting away on the cable news shows.

Lee, Efraim and Dave Geiger had tracked the security contractor that had pulled off the theft of the fake Uzi shipment. When they got to the holding facility, they hit pay dirt finding Lee's Uzi's, rocket launchers, the spent uranium rounds and James Cafferty of Washington Industrial along with his assistant Harlan Richards and their hired guns. Geiger had called in an Agency team to help him clean up while Lee and Beaman went off to arrest Cassandra Mullins.

Street level pictures filled the front pages of all the papers; the wall of broken windows above the scene of Mullins death plunge was splashed in full color. Francine had shivered when she saw the expanse of broken glass; her husband was lucky he hadn't been shredded when they had shattered.

Francine folded the Post as she heard the careful tread of her husband as he came down the stairs. Looking up, she waited for him to come into the kitchen.

"Don't stare so loud Franny," was Efraim's opening comment.

Francine bit her lip to keep from laughing. Her husband was paying the price for his dive into the bottle of Wild Turkey. "Efraim, if I had known that after a few drinks you fell sound asleep, I would have felt quite safe going out with you all those years ago!"

He pulled the chair out from the table and sat down very carefully. The baleful eye he shot her had her giggling. "I fail to see the humor, Francine."

Francine raised her own eyebrows. "Want some coffee? Or maybe some hair of the dog that bit you?" She lifted the nearly empty bottle of bourbon for his inspection.

"I think I need the whole damn dog, I feel like hell," his gaze fell on the papers and he pulled them over in front of him, grimacing at the sudden movement. "So you know," he asked her.

"I called Dr. Smyth, so yes, I know. He was looking forward to his meeting this morning with the Director of the ATF."

He nodded his head then closed his eyes and sighed. "The angle of that picture makes it look pretty bad."

"I think it looks pretty bad from any angle, B."

"I bear a charmed life," he quipped. Efraim shrugged as his wife raised her eyebrow. "Yeah, probably so; I had to finish it Franny, I couldn't let the person who took you get away with it."

"I know," she hugged him and kissed his cheek. Her husband was feeling the weight of his conscience and he would feel it keenly. "You didn't push her."

"I wanted to; my laser site was hitting her right in the middle of her forehead. Don't kid yourself; I wanted to pull that trigger."

"What stopped you? If you took the care to site the gun, you had time to pull the trigger."

He dropped his head to the table and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, should we start with your code name, Boy Scout?" Francine laughed at the gesture her husband made. "Efraim you've said it before, you believe in justice. It really is as simple as that."

"I quit. I left my badge and gun on Smyth's desk and walked out."

"I do recall him mentioning that to me. Want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure what I was thinking. I just thought if I wasn't with the Agency this never would have happened."

"I can see how you could think that," his wife concurred. "Of course it all could have happened anyway and you wouldn't have had the resources to find me or solve the puzzle of it all."

"Well, it's too late now."

Francine gave a soft laugh. "Now B, do you honestly think that Smyth is going to let you just leave? As he put it to me this morning, 'you tell your husband if he thinks I'm going to let someone who blackmailed me walk off scot free, he has forgotten his primary lessons from Turkey. So Efraim, did you blackmail the director of the Agency?"

"Damn that man. Of course I blackmailed him Francine, how the hell else does anyone get around him without putting him over a barrel?" He hit his fist on the table and then groaned as the sound reverberated through his head. "I shouldn't have done that," he took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. "Franny, all I know is I love you and I love our son and I will do anything to protect the two of you."

Francine kissed her husband. "I love you too. So here's the deal; our anniversary is next week," she nodded as Efraim groaned again. "Yes, you might not have kept an eye on the calendar. But here's what's going to happen. We're going to go on vacation with our son and celebrate our first anniversary. When we come back, you have an appointment with Dr. Smyth to discuss your next career move."

"I'm done for," he lamented.

Laughing she put her arms around Efraim's neck. "Oh, I don't think it's that bad."

"Wait until he finds out I diverted funds from his travel, entertainment and discretionary accounts to pay for the equipment, dock workers and warehouse we needed,' he nodded at his wife's questioning look.

"I'll go pack--quickly," Francine jumped off of Efraim's lap. At the doorway she stopped and looked back. "You _did _cover your tracks, didn't you?"

"Maybe not as good as I could have," he shrugged. With a wink he stood up, steadied himself and took a deep breath.

"Oh Efraim, why in the world would you to leave tracks that lead back to you? Especially with Dr. Smyth?"

"Well, it doesn't exactly look like I did it."

"You didn't?"

"It looks like Lee was playing fast and loose with things he shouldn't have been." Francine's laughter rang through the room, lightening his heart for the first time in weeks. He smiled back at her and winked. "I owed him."

The phone rang and Efraim stopped his wife from picking up the call. It switched over to the answering machine and the couple stood silent as they listened to the call.

"Beaman, you better answer the phone right now! Francine, do you know what your husband did? Beaman, dammit, come on!! Smyth has me logging in each of the recovered Uzi's by hand! Answer the phone! Beaman!!"

The machine cut Lee off mid plea. Francine had her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She hugged her husband and leaned back in his arms. "I love you."

"Love you too, Franny."

"Always?"

"Always."

The End!


End file.
